


Behind Dark Eyes

by Wayward_Huntress



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood and Torture, Did I mention explicit language?, Drugs, Explicit Language, F/M, Magic, Past Child Abuse, Sex Drugs and Rock 'n Roll, Sexual Content, male on female violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-01-28 10:03:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 57,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12604136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Huntress/pseuds/Wayward_Huntress
Summary: This ain't no love story.When Sam fails to save Dean after he becomes a demon, a woman from their past intervenes. She's a bad-ass, highly skilled hunter with a secret past that ties to the Winchesters, and several familiar characters.  Can she stop Dean, and help cure him, or will her past demons hinder her attempts.A non-canon, AU story.





	1. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are younger than they are currently in the series.
> 
> This is my first Supernatural fanfic. The idea came about from a conversation with two close friends of mine, and without their encouragement, and constant pushing I may have never written it.  
> This is my first Supernatural Fanfic. Please be gentle with you comments, and I hope that you'll be patient with me as I don't have a lot of time to write, and post as quickly as I'd like. I promise to get chapters up as soon as possible.  
> This fic came about after a conversation I had with two very close friends of mine. I wanted a strong female hunter with an interesting story of her own.  
> A kick-ass female character in the supernatural world who's story was just as important as the Winchester's. The huntress is an extremely independent, strong willed, gifted, sassy individual with a dark side. Hope You Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was supposed to only watch him, but when our huntress tracks down Dean things don't go exactly according to plan.

 

 

 

The bar doors swung open abruptly, and slammed shut behind her startling the bouncer standing nearby. He looked her over, took in the displeased look on her face, and brushed her off as another scorned woman wanting to get wasted. She hadn’t meant to be so forceful, but she was on a mission. A mission that was probably a little too personal. She really had no business being there.  
Irritated, and itching for a fight, she made her way to the bar. Her raven hair glistened as she brushed it over her shoulder. All eyes immediately turned to her. She was decked out in low rise jeans, a white tank top, a large unzipped men’s black leather jacket, and black combat boots. She was 5’5” around 130 pounds, and almost solid muscle. She may have seemed little, but she was strong.

She took a seat on a backless, cushioned stool. She swiveled in her seat as she waited on the barkeep.  
From the jukebox, Cash’s “Have You Ever Seen The Rain” mingled with the voices of the patrons in the background.  
Spinning left in her stool, she glanced around the room. It was your typical dive bar in the middle of nowhere, Texas. The clientele consisted of a few bikers here and there, an older crowd who were most likely regulars, and some of the small town youth. There was one lone man sitting in a dimly lit back corner looking completely uninterested shooting whiskey.

In the cloudy room she could see he had ruffled dark hair, a black button up shirt, blue jeans, scuffed black boots, and a grim, bored look on his face. His back to the wall, he had a perfect view of the entire bar from his seat.  
Of course he would. This was Dean fucking Winchester, and he was watching his back, though mostly out of habit. What he hadn’t counted on was an angry, petite woman coming after him. Why would he? He hadn’t seen, or talked to her in several, very long years.

She almost shook her head out of frustration, but settled for rolling her eyes as she faced the bar once more. _Come on, Dean! You can do so much better than this. _She thought. Hanging out alone at the same bar, night after night? _Boring! _She’d been watching Dean for the past week. It had been one of the most boring stakeouts she’d performed until she noticed something that chilled her to the core. It wouldn’t have bothered quite as much if she hadn’t known Dean in another life. A life she often wished she could forget for the not so simple fact that it would set her one a path that would kill her innocence, and damn her soul.  
She wasn’t completely heartless, a little rough around the edges maybe, with an attitude, and a short fuse. She was often cold, and disconnected, but her main goal in this life was to help the innocent and send every evil thing she could get her hands on straight back to Hell.  
She’d just seen, and been through too much, and Dean had been a friend once upon a time. More than a friend, really. That is, until he’d moved on, and forgotten all about her. Maybe her mission was more than just a little too personal. She had a score to settle, but wanted to save him at the same time. She had to quit thinking about it, all it was doing was pissing her off even more, and she put her trembling hands in her lap.____

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Humming along to the song, the bartender made his way over to her and with a genuine smile, asked, “What’ll you have?”  
She bat her dark blues, “Shot of whiskey, don’t care what.”  
The bartender smiled at her again, and turned to grab a glass, and a bottle. “Make it a double, please.” She added holding up two fingers. He obliged, and returned to the group he had been chatting with at the other end of the bar.  
She heard them talking about her.  
“The things I’d do to her.” She heard an older man say. They all laughed.  
“If you only knew, old man.” She mumbled, smiling to herself.

She downed her shot, and tapped the empty glass on the counter signaling the bartender who was more than happy to set her up with another double. She swiveled back and forth, fidgeting in her stool, swirling her drink. Playing the part of the irritated, lonesome girl perfectly. She glanced around the room again. Peering through the blue haze from the cigarette and cigar smoke, she caught Dean’s eye, but did not smile, or even acknowledge that they’d made brief eye contact. She turned back to bar, put her glass to her lips and took a big swallow. It was a cheap whiskey, but it’d do.

She smiled to herself. It was a little amusing to her, stalking Dean in a bar, seeing as how he’d been the one to take her to her first. The memory was bittersweet because the result of their excursion had ended badly for everyone.  
**********  
She’d been sixteen years old, on a hunting trip with the Winchesters. It was John’s idea of a field trip. She wasn’t asked on many with the boys, and relished the thought of learning something new, and useful. She was actually the useful one. She was very good and had a few tricks of her own. She took a lot of pride in that, until it wasn’t fun anymore.  
She was staying in a hotel room adjacent the Winchester’s because John felt it wasn’t appropriate for the boys to sleep in the same room as girl.  
Sprawled out on the bed, reading a book as usual, she jumped at the sound of tapping on the window. She got up, and peered through the curtain. No one was there. Grabbing her gun from the nightstand she checked the peephole of the door, as Dean knew she would. He stood giving her the finger. Annoyed she returned to the nightstand, this time putting her gun in the drawer. Returning to the door she flung it open, started to say something insulting, and was cut off, “Shut up, and get dressed. We’re going out.” He said, triumphantly holding up fake IDs.  
“Uh, no we’re not.” She whispered, looking around outside the door.  
“Come on, don’t be such pussy. My dad’s passed out, and with any luck we’ll be right behind him in a few hours.”  
She couldn’t believe he was asking her to go with him.  
“Where’s your brother?”  
“He’s asleep too. Get dressed, do something to make yourself look older, and hurry up!” He said.  
“Fine, get in here.” She grabbed his arm, and yanked him into the room, terrified they’d get caught. She wasn’t really afraid for herself. She knew that whatever punishment she’d probably deserve would be taken out on Dean. That thought is was scared her the most. Getting trouble didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. This wasn’t Dean’s first outing with a fake ID. That rebellious bastard would never learn.  
“You’re crazy, you know that?” She furiously said, shoving him.  
“Crazy, or awesome?” He said, shrugging her off, and giving her a wink. His charm was irresistible. He was dressed in old faded blue jeans, a Metallica T-shirt, and worn out brown boots. Over his T-shirt he wore his father’s worn, and faded brown leather jacket, partially zipped up. He was out of his mind!  
“What are you… If your dad catches us...” She said in a panic  
“If my dad catches us, we won’t have to worry about anything ever again. Blah, blah.” He rolled his eyes. “Chill out, and hurry the fuck up!”  
Faking a laugh, she grabbed her bag, and headed to the bathroom. This was a bad idea, but there wasn’t much she wouldn’t do if he asked her.  
Rummaging through what little she had, she found clean blue jeans, and red spaghetti strapped top. She dressed quickly, and pulled on a an old pair of black scuffed black boots. In the bottom of her bag she found what few pieces of makeup she owned. Always be prepared, right? Opening the door, but not quite finished, she yelled out, “Where’d you get those, anyway?”  
“Dude, we make fake badges for my dad all the time.” She could almost hear him roll his eyes again.  
“Touche.” She muttered.  
“Are you almost done?” He called out from the other room. She could hear him pacing.  
She brushed her hair quickly, and pulled it up. She applied mascara, eyeliner, and lip-gloss sloppily, looked in the mirror, and sighed heavily.  
Stepping out of the bathroom she looked at the ground sheepishly.  
“This will never work.”  
Dean studied her for a moment, and said “Sure it will. Pull your hair down.” Pulling the tie from her hair, it fell around her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, not really sure what she should be doing.  
“Do that flip thing.” He said, motioning with his hands. She turned and faced the mirror above the desk, parting her hair down side, she flipped her bangs over. She made a disgusted face, and turned back to Dean.  
“Like this?” Neither of them had any idea what they were doing. She had no mother figure, and other female hunters were few and far between. The only female hunters she’d ever met didn’t do their hair, or makeup, so the issue never came up. John rarely, if ever, took the kids anywhere people might question him. She carried the makeup strictly because it made her look a little older if necessary.  
“Perfect, let’s go!” He said grabbing her arm, and pulling her to the door. Dean could care less what she looked like, just as long as she looked old enough to get in with the ID he’d made.  
She stopped, “Why are you asking me to go with you?” She asked.  
“Dad’s been kind of hard on you lately, and you seemed like you needed a break, or some fun.”  
“You’re not doing this because of me.” She said, knowing better.  
“OK, fine. I didn’t want to go by myself, get your shit, and let’s go!” He said giving a genuine smile. Truth was, he liked her as much as she liked him, but he wasn’t about to tell her that, yet.  
She grabbed an old, faded Carhartt jacket on her way out of the room.  
“Where are we going, and how are we supposed to get there?” She quietly asked over her shoulder as she locked her door.  
“That bar we saw on the way in.”  
“OK, but how?”  
Dean cleared his throat, and she heard jingling. Surely he hadn’t…  
She tucked her room key in her pocket, turned around and saw he was holding up keys. Not just any keys, the keys to his father’s ‘67 Impala.  
“Yup, it’s official, you’ve lost your fucking mind.” She said, pulling her key back out. Dean reached out, and quickly grabbed the key out of her hand.  
“I told you, my dad is passed out, as in blacked out. He’s not getting up anytime soon.” He was so sure of himself.  
She continued to look at him with uncertainty.  
“Just help me get the fucking car out of the lot, and stop being a little bitch.” He said, winking.  
Wanting to impress him, she nodded and they hurried to the car. Dean whistled and she looked up. He tossed the keys to her, and she grinned excitedly.  
“Don’t get any stupid ideas, just put it in reverse and steer.”  
Disappointed she opened the door, and jumped in the driver’s seat. That was the first, and only time she’d ever sat there. Her elbow tapped the horn as she turned to toss her jacket in the backseat. “Shit!” She whispered angrily to herself.  
Standing in front of the car, Dean threw up his hands, and mouthed “What the fuck?”  
She raised her own hands, shrugged her shoulders, and mouthed “I’m sorry.”  
They waited a minute, and when they were sure the coast was clear, Dean pushed, and she steared. When the Impala was facing the road, she slid across the leather bench seat to the passenger side. Dean hurried in, “Drive much?”  
“Sorry.” She mumbled.  
“You know, now would have been an awesome time for you to…”  
“Shut your mouth, or I’m going back to my room.” She said before he could finish his statement.  
He looked away quickly, and started the car. The silence lasted too long for Dean, who held up her key.  
“You can’t go back to your room anyway, I have your key.” She shoved him hard.  
“I can still get into my room, dumbass.” Growing up with hunters you learned pretty quickly you were never truly locked out of anything.  
“Touche.” He said, smiling at her. She returned the smile, giving him a look that only a teenage girl with a crush can give.  
As they pulled out of the hotel parking lot, she glanced back at the hotel and saw Sam peeking out the window. Her heart sank, but there was no backing out now.  
“Why couldn’t Sam come with us?” She asked as they flew down the road.  
“Sam couldn’t pass for 21 if he tried, besides he’s sleeping off almost getting his head kicked in.” He chuckled, adjusting the rearview mirror.  
Sam was 14, but he truly did still look like a little kid. No one would have guessed by 18 he’d be towering over all of them.  
Dean tossed an ID to her, and she turned on the overhead light to looked it over.  
“Amanda Perry?” She said raising an eyebrow, and rolling her eyes. She already knew where this was going.  
“Get it? A man, duh.” He laughed  
“Wow, Dean, you’re hilarious.”  
“Shut up, and Perry’s for your stupid crush on Joe Perry.” He said with an exaggerated eye roll.  
She smacked him on the arm, and tried not to get excited he’d remembered something so trivial.  
“Hey, no hitting the driver!” They traded glances, and both cracked up laughing.  
Lightly punching her in arm he said, “Hey, good save today.”  
“You’re welcome.” she replied sarcastically while watching the lines on the blacktop race by.  
“I’m serious, my dad won’t say it, but you’re kind of a badass.”  
She looked over at him, and beamed. “Really?”  
“You know, for a girl.” He said glancing over and smirking at her. Being a girl had nothing to do with it, and she knew he was only picking on her. 

They had tracked a Wendigo in Shenandoah National Park in Virginia, where they’d camped. This was not her first hunting trip, but at the time was her scariest. It wasn’t the monster itself, it was the fact that it had almost killed the lot of them.  
“Yeah well, someone had to do it, and it didn’t look like any of you were going to get it done.” She said coolly, and looked back out the window her worries fading away.  
They made it to the bar quickly. Getting in wasn’t as big of deal as they’d imagined. They were in some Podunk town where no one cared as long as your ID looked good. They spent the next few hours drinking, and laughing with the locals.  
Driving back probably wasn’t a good idea, but they had to get the car back before John woke up. They laughed and joked the whole way back, singing along with a classic rock station John had left on the radio.  
Their victory was short lived.  
As Dean coasted the Impala back into the hotel parking lot he whispered, “Fuck!” and pound his palm into the steering wheel. John was sitting on a bench in front of the hotel waiting on them. A sinister look was on his face.  
She looked over at Dean, “I’ll tell him it was my idea.” She offered.  
“Pretty sure that’s not going to help.” He mumbled, as he put it into park.  
“Just don’t say anything unless he asks, OK?”  
“Fine.” She said softly. They both exited the car looking at the ground, unsure of what to do with themselves, trying to act sober.  
John stared at Dean in his drunk stupor for a moment, but it felt like an eternity.  
“Mr. Winchester, Sir...” John turned his angry gaze to her. Dean shot her an incredulous look.  
“Get your ass back to your room!” He said loudly, pointing toward her door.  
“Yes, sir.” She sneered.  
John grabbed Dean by the jacket collar, and drug him into their room, slamming the door. He didn’t bother to make sure she’d done what she was told, he just assumed that she would.  
She stood outside for a few minutes listening to the familiar sounds of one of the many “altercations” between Dean and his father.  
“What the hell were you thinking? You could have killed her!” Something crashed to the floor. She could hear thuds through the door. “And you stole my fucking car!” More thuds, and then Sam yelled, “Dad, stop!” Another crash. She’d heard it before, and was always too afraid to intervene. She noticed the curtain was still pulled back from Sam watching them leave, and she peeked in. Dean was on the floor covering a bloody nose. Standing over Dean, John had his back to her, his fist back ready to strike him again. Sam was pulling at him, begging him to stop.

Tonight, and many nights after, whiskey gave her the courage to do what she felt was the right thing. Searching her pockets, she found a bobby pin, and let herself in. No one heard her enter. She silently crept up on John, by the time Sam reacted to her presence it was too late. Shoving Sam out of the way, she kicked John in the back of the knee just hard enough to make him fall, but not cause any real damage. John landed on his knees with a loud groan and a thud.  
Moving in front of him, standing over Dean, she punched John Winchester in the face with almost everything she had. He didn’t have time to process what was happening.  
He recoiled, but was too drunk to defend himself. His face was one of shock, and anger as he sat there, his nose bleeding, eyes watering. He couldn’t believe it was her who’d hit him, and his face turned red. She knew he wouldn’t hit her back, and she still decided that kicking his ass would be satisfying. Someone had to stick up for Sam, and Dean.  
Glaring at him with hate in her eyes she pulled back her fist, intent on hitting him again. Dean jumped up, and grabbed her from behind. “Stop!” He yelled.  
Acting on instinct, and everything she’d been taught up to that point she flung head back, and it connected hard with Dean’s face. He staggered backward, and shook it off. Just as she was about to sock John again, Dean grabbed her by both arms.  
“Stop!” He yelled again. His grip was strong.  
Struggling against his grasp, She screamed. “Lemme me go!” Barely noticing the hot, angry tears streaming down her face. Her hands were shaking, and her breathing quickened. She was getting more upset by the second.  
John’s empty booze bottle shattered on the floor.  
“It’s OK!” Dean yelled.  
“This is Not OK, Dean! How long are you two going to put up with this?” She sobbed, standing over John staring him in the eyes, he was wiping at his bloodied nose,sweat rolling down his face, he was trying to control his temper.  
Her entire body was quivering now. Dean released his grip, and wrapped his arms around her tightly from behind, pulling her close.  
“Just stop. It’s alright.” He whispered in her ear. She took a deep breath, and exhaled quickly.  
“I’m sorry.” She whispered back, choking on a sob. She wasn’t sorry for hitting John, and Dean knew it.  
“Don’t be, I did it to myself.”  
She shook her head sadly, and wiped the tears from her face. Taking another deep breath, she exhaled slowly. Her breathing slowed, the tremors subsided, and Dean let her go.  
She gave John one last long, hard look. To her satisfaction, he looked pretty pathetic sitting on the floor with a bloody broken nose courtesy of a little girl.

Stepping over him, she gently grabbed Sam by the arm, and pulled him to his feet. Brushing his hair away from his eyes, she said “I’m sorry, Sammy.” He stared at her with a shocked expression, but didn’t say anything back.  
She left the room, not looking at Dean. She didn't close the door behind her.  
“Come on, dad, get up.” She heard Dean say, as she headed back to her room. She could hear muffled voices as she entered her room.  
Once she was alone, she screamed, her voice vibrating through the walls. There was a loud crash as something heavy hit the floor. Nobody came to check on her.  
Her hate for John was only just beginning.  
*****************************************************

She waved to the bartender again, and asked for yet another drink. “Bad day?” He said as he grabbed the bottle of Jack pouring her another double.  
“Depends on who you’re asking. I’m having a pretty good time right now.” She smiled weakly. He gave her a confused look, shrugged it off, and extended his hand, “Rick.” he said. She took his hand and shook it politely, but firmly. “Addison.” she said with a slight southern accent, and a brighter smile than before. “Pleasure to meet you.” She added, raising her glass to him in a silent salute.  
“Likewise.” Rick replied smiling, and nodding, then returned to his bartending duties.

She could feel eyes on her back, and heard a few people whispering about “The new, hot chick,” but wasn’t worried about it. She wasn’t planning on being there long enough to make any kind of social wave, so what did it matter?  
She’d been outside the bar plenty of times, but never ventured inside. She shouldn’t have come in tonight, knew better, but she was irritated, and if she was honest, just plain bored.  
Over confident was more accurate.  
Dean was up to something, she was sure of it. She thought she knew, but was going to find out for sure. I mean why else would he be hanging out at some shitty bar, and fucking the local chicks that he'd normally never give a second glance? Even she knew that was beneath him. He was just slumming it, whoring about.  
Gross, Dean,do you even see yourself? Have another drink. She thought, disgusted with him.

No one had ever seen her before, and that would have been problem in a small town, but not for her. She stood out, but only because she wanted to. It was kind of the point, really. Kind of hard to get a man’s attention if you were plain, and boring. He could find that with any of the local women cruising the bar. She needed something to get his attention, especially if the kind of attention you wanted were coming from someone, something, you knew wasn’t really interested in anything, but hiding, drinking, fucking, and fighting at the moment.

The jukebox paused briefly before Willie Nelson’s “Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain” came on. She rolled her eyes. Fucking hick town.  
The sound of heavy, stumbling, boot steps on the wooden floor directly behind her caught her attention. She could feel the man standing behind her, warm air assaulted her neck. She caught the sweet smell of tobacco, and whiskey on his breath.  
From the sound of his gait, and breath on her skin, she guessed he was just barely under 200 pounds, maybe 5’10”.  
Perfect. Too easy.  
“What’s a pretty girl like you, doing in a place like this?” He slurred with a thick Texas drawl.  
She raised an eyebrow. Really?  
Instantly annoyed by his presence, but hoping he’d be useful, she lazily replied, “Not happening, fuck off.” He gave her a confused look.  
She smirked, and swirled the amber liquid in her glass.  
“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” The intoxicated man said, taking a seat in the stool next to her. She glanced over. His bright red hair was mussed, and his shirt was wrinkled. He’d been here for a while. He was dressed in a green and black plaid button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Wrangler jeans that were starched and way too tight, and scuffed black cowboy boots that he’d probably shined before leaving the house. His straw cowboy hat was tipping off of his head, dangerously close to falling to the floor. His bottom lip sticking out full of dip, explaining the tobacco smell. If he were any more of Texas cliche she would have laughed in his face. She just might, anyway.  
He was so drunk he slouched down against the back of the stool, unable to sit up straight. At least he had the sense to sit in something with a back on it.  
She just rolled her eyes, and finished her drink.  
Please give me a reason to kick the shit out of you, she thought to herself. She really hated men that assumed that because she was pretty, and petite, that she was stupid, or an easy target. Especially stupid enough to go home with any man who gave her any kind of attention. But then again, that had been what she was going for.

He smiled, his yellow teeth peppered with grains of tobacco, and tried again, “Haven’t seen you in here before.” The wad in his lip further inhibiting his speech.  
She spun quickly in her chair, facing him with a go to hell look that could kill. “Won’t see much else if you don’t fuck off!” She replied sharply, stifling a laugh.  
Leaning into the bar, trying to sit up, he spit in an empty beer bottle.  
Pleasant.  
“Now, now, don’t, don’t be like that.” He reiterated, fumbling his words, and leaning in close to her. The smell of cheap whiskey, and tobacco almost gagged her, and she leaned away from him.  
“I’m a nice guy, you look like a nice girl….” She flagged Rick who took it as a sign for assistance, and nodded at the bouncer. The two men knew where this was most likely headed. Taking notice she smiled, leaned in, and whispered, “Don’t worry about it.” with a wink.  
Relief washed over Rick’s face, and he waved off the bouncer. “Another drink?” He asked smiling.  
“No thank you, I’m almost done here.” She said, still holding back laughter.  
Rick smiled again, and went back to work.  
Buddy, she thought, don’t look too happy, I’m about to make one hell of a scene in your little bar, sorry.  
“So what do you say you and I….” the intoxicated asshole continued. Addison quickly spun her chair toward the obnoxious redhead, and hissed. “ Look buddy, I said fuck off. You’re lucky I even said it twice. Buh-bye, now.” Starting to actually get angry.  
Good job asshole, now give me a reason. She thought, agitated.

Mr. Inebriated was speechless for a moment. His face turned red. Just who the hell did she think she was? Did this strange woman think she was better than him? That pissed him off even more.

She leaned on the bar half ignoring the drunk next to her, contemplating her intentions of the night. This could all go well, or this could go very badly. She was very skilled, but hadn’t been up against anything like this before. Certainly not by herself. Her source put their trust in her, and that was more than enough for her. Besides, she had it under control, right? She’d fought demons before, easily.  
She had been warned that he was different, and to keep her distance for now. So much for that.

Demon, or not she knew that Dean would not sit by, and watch a woman in distress. Not that he really cared at the moment, but it was far more interesting than the local tail he’d been picking up, and he was incredibly bored. That’s what she was counting on, anyway.  
She needed Dean’s attention, and Mr. Asshole was doing a great job.

Rick could see him getting angry. He looked to Addison, and back to the man. “Bill, if you don’t cool it, I’m gonna have to toss ya out.”  
“Horseshit!” Bill spat. “I didn’t do nothin’!”  
“The lady told you no, now back off!” Rick replied irritated, and nodded at Mark the bouncer who started to make his way over to the scene.  
“You gonna throw me out over a piece of ass?” Bill slurred.

As soon as the words left his mouth Addison flew off of her stool, knocking it to the ground. With her right hand she grabbed Bill by the right wrist, twisting it hard. As she pulled him out of his seat his hat fell to the floor. His chair balancing on one leg, she kicked the stool out of her way, and pulled his arm behind his back. Crushing his straw hat with her boot, her left arm came across the back of his shoulders slamming his torso into the bar. She put some weight into it, and Bill screamed. “What the fuck!”

Rick jumped back in surprise, but suppressed a laugh. He hadn’t seen that coming. Every eye in the room was definitely on her now. She wasn't completely unaware, but focused on the situation at hand. She leaned in close to Bill's ear, and whispered, “I’m not some piece of ass you fucking asshole.”  
“Fuck you bitch, let me go!” She twisted his wrist harder, putting more muscle into it. He flailed wildly with his free left arm, knocking over glasses. The room went silent except for the jukebox.  
Dean watched from his corner, his expression one of boredom, but interest in the woman. It wasn't the first time he’d seen a woman handle herself, but she did it with such grace, and skill. He was actually impressed, and very entertained. He tilted his head, and continued to watch with smirk on his face.

Bill continued to holler in pain. “You’re breaking my arm, bitch!”  
Addison smiled, she wasn’t even close to breaking his arm. “How about an apology, or I will break it, motherfucker!” She could could feel bone, and cartilage grind in her hand. If she twisted, and pulled any harder the bones would snap. “Fuck….” He never got the words out. Sliding her left arm further up, she slammed his head into the counter using her weight. She was so focused on Bill she forgot her surrounding for a moment too long. A strong hand grabbed her gently by the shoulder. “Alright, I’ve seen Enough!” an unfamiliar voice yelled from behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach, which was very much unlike her. Still, she didn’t let go. If she was worried about some drunk redneck, and a hick bouncer, she was in the wrong business.

“Get this fucking bitch off me!” Bill whined. Addison’s hand grabbed a fistful of flannel at the collar of Bill’s shirt ready to finish what he had technically started. Mark’s trunk-like arm came across her chest from behind, and he pulled at her firmly. “Let go, I’ll take it from here.” She shoved herself back from Bill using her weight to slam Bill’s head into the worn wood one last time for good measure.  
She released her grip, as she shoved away, she slammed into Mark who stumbled back slightly. He grabbed her roughly by the arm, and started to say something. Her full lips turned up into a cocky smile as she waited to hear what he was going to say. She felt a presence next to her, and turned to see who else had joined the party.

Glancing over and saw Dean, who had moments before been sitting in the corner bored out of his mind, grinning. Now this was something she’d like to see, though it really shouldn’t have been entertaining to her. She could care less at the moment. It’d been a long time since she’d seen Dean Winchester in action.  
Dean punched the tall, stout man in the face, and he dropped to the ground, landing on one of the upturned stools. Mark was out.  
Dean wasn’t even trying. That should have set off alarm bells then, but she was distracted.  
Dean then turned his attention to Bill.

“The “bitch” as you so simply called her, gave you multiple fair warnings, but you just couldn’t listen.” He said expressionless. Bill looked at Dean incredulous. "I saw where you sit. How'd you even hear that?" Dean leaned in close to Bill’s ear, "I hear everything." He whispered maliciously.  
He moved away from Bill continuing to survey him, and chuckle. Not giving a damn about the quiet bar, and eager eyes.  
“Who the fuck are you? Her bodyguard?” Bill slurred.  
Dean scoffed, “Does it look like she needs a fucking bodyguard?”

“I was just trying to make conversation with the pretty little lady.” Bill said, his face pale from too much alcohol, and the pain in his arm. Addison had held back as well, she could have easily broken his arm, he was sure to have some sort of damage, though.  
“Well, the "little lady" said no more than once, and then handed you your ass. So I’d probably watch my mouth from now on.” Dean sneered  
“Fuck you, too!” Bill said wiping blood from his head, and holding his arm. Dean cocked his head, and sighed a laughed, “Wrong answer.” he said as he grabbed Bill’s already injured arm, and snapped it effortlessly with one hand. The cracking of bones was loud in the the silent room. Addison’s dark side admired the fight in Dean.  
Billed screamed. “What the fuck? Fuck you, I’ll kill you!!” He yelled, his face turning red. Beads of sweat rolling down his face.  
Dean laughed, and said “Good luck with that.” Everyone was staring in a state of shock, afraid to move. The tension in the air was thick and tangible.

Addison looked over at Dean sizing him up, unsure of what was actually happening now. What he going to stop there? Dean was looking around the room, waiting for someone to challenge him.  
In the brighter lighting at the bar she could appreciate his dark brown hair that had a hints of red, chiseled jaw line, lips to die for and green eyes that could kill. They were cold, empty. The kind of dead eyes that send chills down your spine. She wasn’t afraid of him at the moment. More in awe, and more than a little surprised that he’d come to her “rescue.”  
She was suddenly aware that everyone was looking at them with fear instead of interest, anymore. I think I fucked up here, she thought to herself. She pulled a wad of cash from her pocket handed it over to Rick, as she made her apologies to him. “Next round’s on me, and how ‘bout we forget this happened, and that you ever saw me?”  
“Sure thing.” Rick replied grabbing the bills off of the counter. He didn’t bother to count it, he could tell it was more than enough. “What do you say you let me keep that bottle?” She said winking, and pointing to the almost half empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the shelf. "sure" Rick replied nervously.  
She thanked him, took the bottle and turned to go. As she spun around she noticed two sheriffs entering the bar.  
“Fuck!” She whispered. Someone had called the cops.

Dean grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her in another direction, hurrying her out the back door. She didn’t protest, she was getting what she wanted, but the voice in the back of her mind was still sending her warnings.  
Once they hit the back alley they broke into a run. She ran towards the front to motorcycle she’d rode in on. Dean grabbed her again, pulling her in different direction down the alley where he’d parked his car.  
As soon as she saw his car she stopped in her tracks. There sat Baby, in all her glory. She was 1967 Chevy Impala, with 502 Big Block, and 550 engine. Damn, she loved that car. It was one of the most beautiful pieces of machinery she’d ever seen. The windows had been left down. Really?  
Her admiration of the vehicle was short lived. Dean started her up, the engine purred loudly, snapping her back to reality.  
The Doors’ “Riders On The Storm” blared on the old radio.  
“Get in, or I’m leaving you here.” She didn’t have to be told twice. She flew into the ‘67 Chevy, and buckled up. He put his foot in it, Baby roared and jumped to life, tires squealing they fishtailed out of the alley. He didn’t bother to turn down the radio.

She had to give it to him, the man could drive, and in no time at all the cops, the bar, Bill, were long gone in the rearview mirror.  
She looked down, there was trash at her feet. She looked in the backseat with horror. The seat, and floorboards were littered with debris. Was that a cigarette butt? She was torn between shaking the man, and cleaning up the mess. Seeing as how the latter was impossible unless she wanted to throw it out the window. She opted for shaking her head, biting her tongue, and sinking into her seat. Your daddy would knock the shit out of you for this, she thought, and this time I’d probably let him.

Inhaling the scent of leather, it almost smelled like home. Almost. This wasn’t her home, it belonged to the Winchesters. She didn’t actually have what you’d consider a home. Home sounded like a bad joke to her. It was a place shoved deep down in the pit of her memory. Barred, chained, and locked up tight. Only she held onto the key. Maybe one day she could visit, and not wake up screaming, but it didn’t seem likely.

Cruising down the blacktop, pushing 90 miles an hour, Dean bobbed his head to AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck.’’ drumming his thumb on the steering wheel.  
She smiled to herself, tapping her fingers on the on the driver’s side door.  
“Rode down highway broke the limit, we hit the town. Went through Texas, yeah, Texas, and we had some fun...” She sang as her hair whipped her face. Dean looked over at her, and smiled.  
Perfect. Maybe a little too perfect. Things had a tendency to go awry the moment you got a little too comfortable.  
They drove in silence, listening to a plethora of classic rock. Forty- five minutes later they pulled into the driveway of an old abandoned house. She exhaled quickly, and silently. She didn’t want to go back in there, especially with him. It wasn't fear that was holding her back. She just couldn't deal with Dean being her mission, her job. The thought that Dean saved her, and took her back to her place as possibly his next victim wasn't lost on her. She would not be a victim, and Dean had no idea who he was messing with. The only thing he knew was that she could fight a little.

Dean got out of the car,walking up the old dirt driveway, and ascended the front steps of the old, but still quite sturdy house. She climbed out of the car, the bottle of booze sloshing in her hand. Carefully closing the door, she took a long, loving look at Baby. Of all the things ever changing in her life, she had remained on of the constants.  
“Good girl.” She whispered into the breeze.  
She had been almost thirteen the first time she saw Her, and had been curled up on the couch inside Bobby Singer’s home, one of the many places she’d stay throughout her ‘teens, reading Kerouac’s ‘On The Road.’ The rumble of the old engine interrupted her. Spying through the curtains she saw John Winchester ease her into the drive, and two young boys scrambled to get out. No one drove anything like that where she had come from, and she was more interested in the car than the boys for the time being.

She shook her head. ‘Get it together’, her brain yelled at her.  
The sound of the trees blowing in the cool, but humid breeze snapped her back to the present.. She’d give anything to go back to the early days. To convince the boys to run away. Not necessarily with her, but at least together. Together they would have maybe had a chance at something normal. It wouldn’t have done any good of course. By then they had all been through too much. Dean would never just leave John, but Sam eventually left them both. Good for him. He’d almost made it.

She scowled, and looked up at the creaky old house, two-story house. Tilting her head up to the night sky, she inhaled the scent of rain. From the many songs on the jukebox, and radio about rain, she already knew it would be coming down soon. Not just a little rain, but a decent storm. Call it intuition. Things like that happened around her a lot, and she was never wrong.

That nagging feeling that she really shouldn’t be here wouldn't go away. The feeling was strong, and she felt it in her bones. It was a little late to back out now, at least that's what she kept telling herself. At this point she wasn't afraid of Dean. She was pretty sure she'd fought worse, solo. As much as she knew about demons, and monsters, she had never come across something like Dean supposedly was now. Still she wasn't convinced there would be an all out fight between the two of them. She thought she was ready for what needed to be done.

Dean entered the house, leaving the door open behind him, and disappeared inside. She followed slowly.  
He walked over to a chair, and took a seat. She stood in the entryway of the room, and stared him up and down. Even with his messy hair, and wrinkled clothes, he was beautiful. God, he was still fucking gorgeous! FOCUS, damnit! She cursed herself. She was almost that teenage girl again.

“So you gonna stand there all night, and stare, or are you gonna a have a seat and share that with me? The way I see it you kind of owe me.” He said gesturing to the bottle, then to the couch.  
“Well, I seem to remember handling the situation fairly well.” She said making her way to a couch near his chair.  
She sat down, and made herself comfortable while taking in everything around her. Dean, the sounds of the house, the increase in the wind outside.  
“And I remember finishing it, and getting us the hell out of there.” He replied in a presumptuous tone.  
She couldn’t argue that.  
“You have any glasses?” She asked him with mock innocence.  
“I don’t have anything you have to worry about, sweetheart.”  
I guess you can’t catch ‘demon.’ She thought to herself, and stifled a laugh. There was plenty to worry about, but she was loosening up. Maybe the four doubles, or was it five, at the bar was a really bad idea. She handed over the bottle. He opened it up immediately, took a long swig, and handed it back to her who did the same. She recapped the bottle and placed it on the the table between the couch she was relaxing on, and the chair he had collapsed in. “ So you’re Addison” He said matter-of-factly. She looked over stunned. “Don’t worry, I heard you say it at the bar.”  
“And you’re…”  
“Dean.” He finished with a wink. Smug bastard, she thought with slight annoyance. That damn charm of his was her weak spot, and he had no idea.

 

************************  
“So, where’d you learn to fight?” Dean asked, grabbing the bottle off of the table casually drinking taking a drink, grimacing as he swallowed.  
“Some might call it a misspent youth.” She replied sourly. She snatched the bottle away from him, and took a giant drink, winced as it went down, and sighed. She placed the bottle back on the side table.  
“I may know a little about that.” he said with a roll of his eyes, and left it at that. He didn’t actually care, the look on his face said as much.  
He raised his eyes to her. She pretended not to notice.

She leaned back into the sofa, and closed her eyes. The couch was brown leather, cracked and rough from years of wear, and neglect. She relaxed a little. The excessive amount of booze had helped, or most likely hurt her situation. That would remain to be seen. Her eyes still closed, she sighed.  
It was the sexiest sigh Dean had heard in while, and he’d had his fair share of women.  
She was a little warm for comfort, even though the the draft in the old house had made it a little cool despite the Texas heat. It was late November after all, so no doubt it would be cooling off in the night air.  
She looked over at the demon who was casually eyeing her, those brilliant green eyes shining though the alcohol induced haze. She couldn’t repress the smile that came across her face, and lit up those intense blue eyes. He was a charmer without even trying. Dean leaned over toward her, and grabbed the bottle from the table between them. His eyes never leaving hers, he finished the contents in one full gulp. He tossed the bottle over his shoulder carelessly, and it shatter on the ground behind him. He really didn’t give a shit.  
Really, Dean? She thought.  
Addison didn’t even startle at the sound. She looked away for an instant, and rolled her eyes, and continued her trail of thought. Well, let's see if I can get him upstairs.  
Looking back at him, “Hot in here, huh?” she said nonchalantly. She removed her leather jacket, carefully folding it over the arm of the sofa. She slouched, leaning back into sofa and closed her eyes again, “mmmm, better.” She almost gagged at how stupid, and girly she was pretending to be, though not for the first time in her life. For some ridiculous reason, some men’s alarm bells didn’t even sound with an idiotic female. Dean should know better. One of the first things they were taught was trust no one.

Dean stared more intensely at her. Her low cut tank showing off more cleavage than the jacket had allowed. Her shirt had risen in her slouch showing off her midriff just slightly, nicely cut hips peaked out of her low cut jeans.  
She put her boot clad feet up on the table in front of her. So far he had no idea she had a Sig .380, and demon blade, and a flask of holy water tucked snugly in her boots. She opened her eyes, and caught him staring. She returned the gaze through her own bleary eyes. She smiled again. In that moment she wasn’t staring at demon. She staring at Dean Winchester. The infamous hunter, badass. Bad reputations aside, she would always have a great amount of respect for the Winchester boys. No matter how angry she may have been with the two of them.  
How many times had they saved the world? No matter what the cost, they got shit done. They saved thousands, no millions of lives, and almost no one knew about it unless you were in the hunter circle. She preferred it that way  
Dean stared hungrily at her. She really was one of the most attractive women he’d ever seen. Her pale skin set off her radiant blue eyes, black hair, and full red lips. It took everything he had not to act on animal instinct, and just take her right there.

Addison couldn't stand the mess Dean had  
left behind him.  
He watched her walk around his chair to the mess of broken glass that he’d made. She swayed he hips when she walked, and he thought it was extremely hot. Even her stumbling a little, was driving him mad. She was graceful and sexy, even while inebriated. His eyes flashed black for a moment, and he sighed through his teeth. She heard it, and ignored it.

“You don’t happen to have a broom around here do you?” Her intoxicated mind wondered aloud.  
“Does it look like I have a fucking broom in this dump?” he said his eyes shining green again upon her gaze. “ Well, I can’t just leave this here.” She said with a slight slur, stooping to pick up the broken pieces by hand. Dean couldn’t help himself, he turned and stared at her amazing ass, eyes going black once more.  
Distracted, wondering about how this night would go, and maybe just a little inebriated, she fell forward catching herself on a rather large piece of glass. “Fuck!” She exclaimed loudly.

She stood up, pulled the glass from her hand, and examined the fresh wound, blood pouring from her right hand. That was it for the demon. He was on his feet, and behind her in a second, eyes black as night. He stopped short, took a breath and closed his eyes, when they reopened they were their natural color again, with a slight haze from alcohol. He wanted her badly, but he wasn’t going to just attack some innocent little thing. How easy, and fun it would be though.

“Let me take a look.” he said forcefully spinning her around, trying to contain himself. “It’s not too bad” Addison said annoyed with herself.  
Dean examined the wound briefly and pulled a bandanna from his back pocket, and wrapped it around her hand. “Yeah, It’s not so bad, but could probably use some stitches.”  
“Well that’s not going to happen tonight.” She replied, annoyance in her voice. It was definitely not something that should slow her down.  
Dean still had a gentle hold of her hand, but she could feel him looking her in the face.

She looked up into those emerald green eyes, and her mind was gone, lost somewhere in the shards on the floor. Demon who? She thought.  
She’d always had a thing for Dean, whether, or not anything serious would ever come of it, she probably always would.

There was no denying the look of lust in her eyes. Dean took the signal, and grabbed her by the waist pulling her tightly to him, kissing her forcefully. She didn’t object, and instead kissed him back, hungry for more. She grabbed him by the back of his dark hair, and deepened the kiss letting tongues entwine, moans coming from them both. Hands groping at each other. Dean ran his hands through her hair, and gave it a gentle tug. She moaned loudly. He ran his hands down her back and cupped that beautiful ass, pulling her even closer to him.  
Breathing heavily, Dean broke away, giving her the sexiest come fuck me eyes she’d ever seen “Wanna take this to the bedroom?” Dean asked. She grinned, breathlessly.  
Dean took that as a yes, and grabbed her hard by the arm, and led the way up the creaky stairs of the old house, to a bedroom that was actually nicely kept.  
The bed was an old queen with new sheets, and pillows on it. The old dresser in the room was clean and bare.

She took a moment to glance around, “This is, um, nice.” She said, feigning interest. She’d already seen it.  
Dean grunted, and grabbed her by the hips slamming her into the wall.  
Her body’s impact with the old wooden wall was slightly painful, but she liked it. She grabbed him by the neck kissing him again. Running her hands through that irresistible hair. He bit her lip, teeth pulling ever so gently. He was teasing her. She had no Idea what she’d gotten herself into, the demon though. The thought made him smile wickedly. He grabbed her just above her thighs, lifting her effortlessly, and carelessly. Holding them both against the wall using just enough of his weight against her pelvis, he began running his hands from her hair, to her shoulders, down her sides, over her breast,  
down to her waist. She moaned into his mouth. No one had ever Kissed her this way. This forcefully. She yearned for more. She wrapped her legs around his waist. She wanted him as close to her as could. She pulled at his hair kissing him passionately. He ground himself against her, letting out a low growl.  
Nipping at her neck, his eyes changed back to black. Lost in a moment of ecstasy, she didn’t notice. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She released her grip from his neck, and he placed her back on the hardwood floor. Legs shaking, she almost staggered. He caught her by the waist steadying her.

She grabbed him by his black button up, tearing it open sending buttons flying everywhere. Dean grunted in surprise he had not expected that from her. He grabbed her by the hair again biting her neck, hard. Not hard enough to break the skin, but it’d definitely leave a mark. Hopefully not the first of the night. She thought carelessly.  
She cried out in pure ecstasy.  
Please! She begged in her mind. She smiled at him, and laughed a naughty low laugh into his ear, leaving tiny trails of nips down his neck. He tasted musky, salty, with a hint of sweetness from the whiskey.  
She planted kisses on his chest. She stopped at his tattoo on the right side of his chest, and traced the outline of a Pentagram. If only this had been enough to save him, she thought.  
“Just a phase.” He explained, and she let him lie. She had a few phases of her own that she’d prefer to keep hidden. Another reminder that she had no business being here.  
She pushed the thoughts out of her head for now.  
In one fell swoop his shirt was on the floor. She sucked in her breath. Never in life had she seen anyone who had been through all of the things he’d been through, with such perfect skin. She ran her hands down his chest, raking her nails down unblemished skin. He smelled amazing. That beautiful, natural, clean man smell, with a hint of smoke from the bar. She couldn’t get enough. She slid down the wall kissing lower, just below his bellybutton, and biting at his jeans. Dean grunted. She could feel him getting hard, but Dean wasn’t ready yet. He wanted more of her. Dean's hand grabbed her by the chin, and pulled her face to his again. He pressed her against the wall again, a little more gently this time, but firmly. Kissing her wildly. Grinding his pelvis into her.  
His hands were at her jeans, pulling at the waistline, teasing. Her mind was spinning.  
Wasn’t there something she was supposed to doing? The thought was gone as he grabbed her by both wrist, pulling her hands over her head.  
She froze. Noticing her reaction, he commented,  
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you….. Much.” He said with a sly grin. It wasn't that she was afraid of. She knew what was coming, and knew as soon as her shirt came off her cover would be blown. “Maybe we should leave the shirt on?” She said forcing a smile.  
“Not a chance” He replied, He dropped his left hand, tugging at the hemline of her tank top. His right hand still firmly holding her hands above her head. She tried to struggle to move out of his grasp, but he was too strong. She wanted him badly. More than any man she’d ever known, but knew as soon as he saw what was underneath the thin, white fabric he would know, and the fight would be on. So much for the best fuck of her life.

Addison protested a little more, and finally just gave in. Maybe she could explain, or just not talk about it at all. Her alcohol fueled brain told her. Yeah, good luck with that.  
A hunter almost always knew. That wasn’t the worst part though. The mark, or marks on her back were telling enough if he didn’t figure it out by her plethora of scars.  
She knew once he saw that, she’d better be ready for a fight. He wasn’t going to like being deceived, and possibly feeling used. Though she wasn’t using him anymore than he was using her. She knew why she was here, why she wanted him upstairs. It wasn’t to fuck his brains out. Though that could have been a bonus the darkness in her told her.

It was to see if he had brought her home for a reason, but she couldn’t help thinking Dean was still in there, somewhere.  
She started lifting her shirt, and panic set in. It wasn’t like her to let her guard down, let alone panic, especially over a guy. Well, a demon. She’d already broken one of her main rules, no going back now. This had already gone way too far. Fuck it, might as well get it over with. She thought.  
Dean sensing her rising panic, leaned in close, and whispered in her ear, sucking on her earlobe for emphasis. “I’m not going to hurt you, unless you want me to.” She shivered. He was lying, and she knew it. He bit her bare shoulder, hard, and then kissed it, to show he was serious.  
God, Please hurt me. The sadist in her screamed. Part of her just didn’t care at all that this was a demon who looked like Dean.  
She let a moan of pleasure escape her lips. Dean pressed his hips against her’s again, holding her against the wall, and in one swift movement her shirt was off, and on the floor.  
His eyes went from her’s, trailed down her chest, and stomach, and stopped. He froze. Her torso was a battlefield of old, and new scars. Scars from knives, bullet wounds, crappy stitching jobs, but the angry red and purple claw mark was what really sealed it.

Cocking his head to the side, he took a few steps back.  
His eyes were cold again, and this time he didn't hide it. His eyes filled in a deep, shiny black.  
“I had a feeling, but I wasn’t quite sure. Not many hunters go around fuckin’ demons.” He growled in a low voice. He’d killed much larger men for far less.  
“What? I’m not...” She never finished her sentence.  
His anger exploded. He shoved her into the wall hard enough to slightly knock the wind out of her. The demon laughed. Amused that this small woman had probably thought she could take him, and now she was trying to lie about it?

“A little girl playing hunter? I don’t think you realize what you’ve walked into here.”  
She shook it off, and took a few careful steps forward.  
He shoved her again, this time harder. She thought she heard the old wood crack when her body made contact with it. Her shoulder blades screamed, and the the air rushed from her lungs. She collapsed to the floor, falling into a fighting stance despite the pain.  
Clothed In nothing but a pair of blue jeans, boots, and a bra she looked pathetic to him. Not that gorgeous girl he’d wanted hold against the wall, and fuck until she screamed his name, and possibly passed out.  
She caught her breath, and Instantly she was pissed, and in fight mode. “Kill, or be killed.” A voice from her past echoed in her head.

“You wanna play this game, fine.” She said, her eyes never leaving his. Carefully watching his every move.  
Guess there was going to be a fight after all. She thought with a slight smile.

“I had a much more entertaining game in mind actually,” He said with that charming snark of his. “but you tracked me down, your first mistake, played nice with me, your second mistake. Your biggest mistake? I don’t play nice. He said heatedly  
Then, you actually try to fuck me?” He said with a raised eyebrow.  
“What kind of hunter are you? You're a traitor to your own kind, you know?” He laughed. “Good for you, though. Serves them right.” He laughed  
“I was having a really good time” He continued. “And now? Now, I’m going to kill you, slowly, and painfully if you don’t tell me who you’re working for. I may just kill you anyway. I was already thinking about it.” he said casually.  
Addison’s expression went cold. She wasn't sure if this was a manipulation, but there was no doubt in her mind that he’d kill her without a second thought. She knew from her source that he’d said as much about his own brother. The man he’d died so many times for. Went to Hell for. Took on the world for.

She would never in a million years tell him what had actually brought her here. She’d rather die.  
“Look at you, don’t you look so tough, crouched on the floor with that scorned woman look. Pathetic!” He said rolling his eyes again, and laughing.  
He turned his back on her, and walked toward the the dresser, leaning on it with his palms, and looking in the mirror. The Mirror faced the opposite wall from Addison, at an angle he couldn’t see her in it, but he wasn’t worried about her in the slightest.  
In her crouched position, she silently pulled the demon blade from her boot, tucked it into the back of her jeans, and returned to her original position.  
He’d been watching her all night, and from what he could tell she had no weapon, and fighting him hand to hand wasn’t out of the question, but not altogether logical. She had no idea what he could do.  
Dean had to wonder, what did she think she was actually going to do here? He turned back around, and paced a little as he thought, his boots heavy on the rug that covered the middle of the wooden floor. Addison continued to watch him. It seemed like she was in a lot of trouble. Death, a world of hurt, or both.  
Nah, she should be able to fight him. She thought with overconfidence. "You loved to hear yourself talk, huh?" She sneered at him.

Dean's eyes had changed back to their lovely shade of green, yet still cold. There was nothing there anymore. No hunger, no passion. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but the amused look on his face told her that he was thinking up something special.

“You know when I said don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you?” He said, glaring at her.  
Addison, giving him a cold hard stare of her own, kept her mouth shut.  
“Well, I guess I lied. I’m going to do things to you that will make you wish for death a thousand times over, and then I’ll really get started.” In Addison’s mind she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How was this Dean Winchester? A fucking hero? My hero?

Dean kept looking at her like she was just some sad little play thing.  
She was after all just some pretty little girl, playing hunter as he had put it. HE really had no Idea what he was up against. The thought made her smile.  
“Maybe you’re not as innocent as you seem?” He said hopping on the bed like child. “I mean why the hell would they send a woman, especially one of your size, and questionable morals to come take me out? I’m assuming Someone sent you, because I sure as hell don’t know you, or have I managed upset you somehow?” He laughed, slapping a hand on his knee.  
Well, at least someone thought he was funny.

“Are you really that good? Do they know you like to fuck demons?” he continued, mocking her with a sarcastic grin.  
“Wanna find out?” She said with a wink.  
He was long bored. Getting up from the bed, he started to walk towards her with a nefarious smile. She’d only have maybe one shot.

As soon as he was directly in front of her, She jumped to her feet. Pulling the blade from the back of her jeans, she lunged, and drove it into the demon’s chest, purposely missing his heart. Bright red light crackled around the wound.  
She wasn’t supposed to have even engaged him, but if it came to that she was to take him down, but keep him alive if at all possible.  
She pulled hard on the blade, it made a sucking sound as it came out from between his ribs. Dean shocked, eyes as black as pitch, screamed an animal like noise, and immediately went after her. She was too fast, and ducked at his first swing. Eyeing him, she had her left arm raised protecting herself, and the knife high in a tight grip in her right hand. The cut inside her right palm throbbed a little.

“OK, Winchester. Let’s see what you’ve got.” She smiled. She so loved a fight. I didn’t even matter if one day it got her killed.

Dean still didn’t know who she was, or what she was capable of. Sure, most hunters could fight, but to his level, demon and all? He was curious to see.

She’d sparred with him several times growing up, and had had her ass handed to her more than once. He’d never let her just win, but she’d won her fair share. Dean never intentionally hurt her, but this wasn’t sparring, this was about survival.

Dean circled her like an animal, she followed his every step keeping her eyes on only him. He stopped, and she stopped with him. He stood staring at her for what seemed like an eternity. It was meant to distract, and intimidate, but she was not at all impressed. She’d been taught by some of the best after all. She just watched him closely. Her entire body on high alert. Then, out of nowhere Dean lunged at her. She moved out of the way quickly, dragging the blade down his back as hard as she could as he passed, splitting the once perfect skin, as he passed her. A red flash of light illuminated his skin from the warded blade. He screamed in agony, and rage. Blood dripped on the floor.  
He turned to her breathing hard, and laughed.  
“You know you can’t kill me with that thing”, he said grimacing, yet giving her another look of contempt.  
“I may not be able to kill you with it, not that I’m aware of yet, but I damn sure can hurt you with it. Please don’t don’t give me another reason to try... Or do, your choice.” She taunted.

 

Dean’s wounds were already healing, and he was beyond pissed. As he stood there recuperating she quickly grabbed the small flask securely tucked in her other boot, unscrewed the cap, and tossed the holy liquid in his beautiful face. He screamed again, his eyes went wild. Over the sound of his skin singeing she said, “Yeah Dean, it’s true, you were my mission so to speak. I‘ve been following you for a while, actually. For a demon, you’re pretty boring. I knew you were in this house. Just like I knew you were in that bar. You couldn't think of anywhere else to go?” She mocked. “I watched your every move, every time you left this house. And yes, I’m Very good at what I do. Good job watching your back.” She teased.

She tossed more holy water into his face, and as he screamed, she shoved the knife into his stomach. He howled in pain. While he was doubled over, distracted, she dropped to floor, sliding on her knees across the wood floor stopping at the dresser. She quickly fished underneath it and found exactly what she was looking for. Dean caught a flash of metal as she rose to her feet, butwas in too much pain to understand what he was seeing. Addison calmly walked over to Dean, and hit him hard in the face, wearing a pair of brass knuckles with wardings on them. He hit the ground hard. She was strong for a woman of her size.

She grabbed one of his wrists, and locked a shackle to it. He screamed, and she hit him again, “Shut the fuck up!” She yelled, grabbing the the other wrist, clasping the remaining shackle to it.  
She quickly pulled to knife from his stomach and he howeld.  
She shoved him off of the rug he had fallen on, swiftly grabbing it and throwing it aside. Underneath was a Devil’s trap, painted bright red. Dean was furious. She shoved him hard with her foot into to the trap. Dean was making noises she’d never heard from a person, a demon, monster, or animal. It was unnerving, even for her. She ignored it.  
“You know Dean, I was going to blow this so called mission, and have a different kind of fun with you.” She said with wink, and sat on the bed.  
“Honey..” he said through gritted teeth, “You couldn’t handle me anyway.”  
“Oh but sweetheart, I just did..” she said waving the demon blade at him, and smiling. Dean was speechless.

He glared at her. His black eyes had almost a red ring around them. She stood up from the bed, and walked to the corner of the room, where they had been before things had gone horribly wrong. Not that she had expected them to exactly go well in the first place. She bent down, careful to hide the marks on her back, picked up her top, and pulled it back over her head.  
“By the way, you have very poor taste in women.” She said, crossing the room so that she was standing in front of him, just outside the devil’s trap. He laughed, and started to say something snarky, but before he could get the words out she added, “Yeah, that means me too. I mean Dean Winchester, ex-hero, hunter, demon, seduced, and tricked by a girl?” She laughed. “Little ‘ol me? Who, by the way, just handed you your ass.” She reminded him again for her enjoyment.  
He continue to glare at her, not saying a word. It probably wasn’t the greatest idea to taunt a fucking Knight of Hell, or whatever he was, but fuck it, might as well have some fun. There was no telling how this would end.

You should not be here. You definitely should not be doing this. Her mind yelled at her. She pushed the thought aside,  
“What I Don’t understand was why you’d come over, and help me with some asshole. Wanna tell me about that?” She thought she knew the answer, but desperately hoped she was wrong. Either way it was all bad.  
“Fuck you!” He spat at her. He wasn’t telling her shit. He honestly didn’t care one way, or another. He just wanted a piece of ass, he liked fights, and tough chicks. They were pretty wild in bed.  
“Come on Dean, we’re gonna be here for at least a few more hours, may as well get comfy, and have a conversation.”  
He didn't respond. A few more hours? What did she have planned? If it was torture, bring it on. He could use a little fun.. He hadn’t gotten a chance to get his rocks off, so that would do.  
She was getting bored. He was bound, and not going anywhere any time soon.

The shackles were warded by the same magic that Sam and Dean had found in the Men of Letters bunker where they had been living in. From their research, they could hold any demon for as long as needed, but a Knight of Hell was a different story, and wouldn’t hold Dean long, but long enough. At least that was what her source had told her, and she trusted them.  
The Devil’s trap wouldn’t hold him long either. “Look, I know you’ve got more booze in this place, I’ll go get another bottle, and we'll have a nice chat.” She said reaching through the trap, and patting him on the head. She left the room, and rushed downstairs to the kitchen. Of course she knew her way around this shithole; she’d just been inside a few hours before. She paused in the kitchen, and took a deep breath. Looking down at her hands, she shook them hard trying to ease the anxiety that was creeping in up on her..  
This wasn’t supposed to be so hard. She shouldn’t be having mixed feelings. If she couldn’t fight him, she could call for backup. That seemed appealing to her, asking for help. She knew she could handle the situation, though not the way she wanted to.  
She grabbed the first full bottle of whiskey she saw on the counter, and hurried back up the stairs. Just outside the doorway she froze. Something wasn't right. There were no sounds coming from the bedroom. She quietly placed the bottle on the floor next to the door frame, and pressed her back against the wall in the hallway. She took a deep breath, and held it. She drew her knife from her boot, .380 from her other. She continued to hold her breath, and listen.. Nothing. No way he was dead. What was going on?  
She sucked it up, and jumped into the doorway aiming the small firearm in the direction of where she had left Dean, and froze. The shackles were left in the middle of the trap, and there was no sign of him.  
Her eyes scanned the room. She slowed her breathing, listening to every creek of the house. She’d been gone maybe three minutes tops. How did he get out, and where the fuck did he go? How had she not heard him? She slowly entered the room pistol in her right hand, knife in her left. She never lowered either. She listened harder still. She looked at the ground. Blood stains. That was a good start. It was so incredibly, eerily, quiet, save for the creaks, and moans of the old house as the wind picked up outside. Well, this should be fun. She thought. Nothing like chasing a fucking demon powerful enough escape warded cuffs and a Devil’s Trap, in the pouring rain. Good times!

She walked on the balls of her feet checking every corner of the room. The closet, under the bed, the side of the dresser between the wall. Nothing.  
He was gone, but as intrigued as he had seemed to be she doubt he’d left. He was playing a game. Hunting a hunter. Quite the sport she supposed.  
As quietly as she she could she pulled opened the draw in the middle of the dresser, tossing out the clothes that Dean had actually folded and put away. She paused, and listened again. She glanced around the room quickly, once more. Where the hell had he gone, and why hadn’t he come back for her?

No time to think. She had to hurry. He could be anywhere, and the very last thing she needed was to get caught doing what she was doing now. She pulled her knife from her back pocket and used it to jimmy the bottom of the draw loose, and tucked it back in her back pocket. With a quick look over her shoulder she pulled the fake bottom she’d made out of the old draw. Inside was a Spyderco Civilian knife. You get cut with that just right, and it’s game over. Not that that would hurt Dean, but it may slow him down. Next to it was a Sig Sauer P226 .9mm that she tucked into the back of her jeans. Her absolute favorite side arm. Decent caliber, and with the right ammo got the job just fine. She grabbed the paddle holster next to it, and placed it on her right hip, grabbing the .45 1911 that went with it. What was special about this particular weapon was that she had carved Devil’s traps into the points of the bullets. Those would definitely slow him down for quite a while. She glanced around the room once more. Always watching her back. Always listening. Bless you, Bobby, for being a paranoid old bastard. She thought with a sad smile.  
She rose to her feet, and shoved the .45 into the holster until she felt it snap into place. She looked around the room again, noticed small drops of blood that led out of the room.  
The trail wouldn't be a long one. In fact it was probably gone by now, at the rate that he healed.

She quietly left the room, .9mm out checking both sides of the hall before exiting. She headed for the stairs. No way he’d hide in any of the rooms. Sure, he’d want to play a game of cat, and mouse, but he’d be bored hanging out in a bedroom waiting on her to find him. This was Dean. They trained together as kids, and Lord knew he’d never made anything easy on her. Of course he didn’t know it was her, and that, perhaps, made him even more dangerous. She was a danger to him as well. She knew his fighting styles, his techniques. They'd had a few of the same teachers, though her's had probably been a lot harder on her, than him. Gotta toughen up the girl, right?

She tiptoed down the old stairs trying to be careful to avoid making them creak, but at this point what did it matter? He already knew she was looking for him. She cleared the end of the stairs careful of her surroundings.Gun still raised in front of her finger over the trigger guard, she walked back over to the couch that she’d not too long ago been so comfortable on. She surveyed the room quickly. Lowering her pistol, she grabbled her leather jacket, and pulled it on. In her tank top she was vulnerable to cuts, and gashes, and couldn't afford to be slowed down in the slightest. The leather would help protect her just enough. There was no telling if he’d had a weapon or not. Not that he’d really need one, but nonetheless he could have one just for the fun of it.

She heard the wind pick up even more. The trees blowing against the windows, branches scratching the sides of the house, making noise like nails on a chalkboard that she just simply pretended not to hear. She suddenly heard a repeated banging noise coming from the kitchen. She froze, listening. Wondering what it could be she waited, and realized it was the back door slowly banging from wind. She raised her pistol again, quietly moving toward the kitchen aware that it could be a trick. She slowly peeked around the kitchen entryway gun first. The room was empty as far as she could tell. She walked around the small empty room. Checking the pantry. Empty of course. There was no other door for him to go through, and he hadn’t come into the living room, so he had to have gone outside.

“Great”, she mumbled to herself. Of course he’d want to go out into the oncoming storm. With the roaring wind it’d be difficult to hear him sneak up on her. She walked to the clanging door, pulling it all the way open. Checking left, and right from the doorway, gun out, finger on the trigger. She wasn’t taking any chances. She stepped out onto the back patio peering into the shadows. It was already sprinkling rain, and no sooner had she stepped off of the porch, it started pouring. Wonderful, she thought to herself. Normally she loved the rain. It was soothing, but not tonight. Tonight it was hard, loud, and blowing sideways from the wind. Tonight it was another enemy. It stung her face, but she ignored it, still trying to listen to any unusual noises besides the heavy rain. It made the ground soft. That would definitely make it difficult for her to hear him in his heavy boots sneak up on her. It also worked to her advantage, making it hard for him to hear her as well, even though his hearing was now impecable. She knew he could see extremely well in the dark, but she’d spent years chasing creatures in obscure light. Thankful for the full moonlight she moved on, checking the ground for footprints. He had a heavy gait, and it would be difficult for him to cover his tracks. Not that he could care less anyway. She on the other hand in her light but sturdy combat boots, and small frame wouldn’t have too difficult of a time hiding hers. Her long loose hair was matting to her face. She should have pulled it up, wish that she had. She knew better, but had been a little busy trying not to be murdered by a fucking demon. It was a little too late now. She pushed her wet hair back with one hand, the other still holding her pistol firmly out in front of her.  
A few feet in front of her, large boot prints led to an old dilapidated shed. She crept towards it. The old door was broken, and open. It was broken when she checked the house earlier, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t inside. Going inside was a mistake, she knew it. It would be better to just draw him out, and fight him in the rain.

There were rotting wood shelves containing rusted old tools throughout. Nails, bolts, and screws littered the floor. She walked in further, her boot struck an old corroded piece of pipe, and it rolled noisily across the concrete floor. "Fuck!" She cursed quietly to herself.  
Standing still she peered harder into the dark corners of the shed. Nothing.  
She cleared the room, and stood listening to the building sway. Maybe he had the same thoughts she’d had? Could you make it a little easy on me, Dean? Promise I’ll be nice. She smirked thinking to herself, tiptoeing her way back out into the storm.

She pulled up the collar of her jacket with her left hand.  
The cut on her right hand stung against the gun in her grasp even with the cushion of the bandanna. She continued to try listen to through the intense rain. just as she was thinking the foot prints to the shed had been too easy she heard crack. It was the sound of a branch on the ground breaking. She swung her body, and gun in the direction of the sound. It was too late. He was too fast.  
Heavy boots splashing through the puddles on the ground came at her quickly. This time she wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way, and in moments she slammed into the ground landing on something hard. She cried out in pain. Her .9mm knocked from her hand. Fuck! The wheels of her mind began to turn quickly.  
She pulled her brass knuckles from the pocket of her leather jacket, sliding them on quickly.

He was heavy, straddling her. He leaned in close, bad move, she palm stuck him hard in the nose, the inside of her brass knuckle breaking his nose. Blood immediately gushed.  
He laughed. “Come on! Really, bitch?” Anger surged through her. She leaned forward, and struck him hard in the mouth, splitting his lip. In return he punched her hard in the face, her cheek split with a pop. She could feel it already beginning to swell. Blood ran into her ear, and hair.  
His wounds had already healed. She tried to gain some traction with her boots, but the muddy, wet ground made it nearly impossible. He smiled. “Keep struggling, you're making me hot, or isn’t that what you wanted?” He said leaning in close again. So he was still sore about that.  
She raised herself up on her elbows slamming her head into his nose, hard. She heard, and felt the crunch. Blood gushed again, filling his mouth. Maybe that would shut him up. He laughed again, blood staining his teeth. “Fuck you, you demon piece of shit!” she screamed struggling.  
He smiled, and spit blood in her face. “You didn’t have a problem with that earlier.” She screamed in rage, her face turning red.

Dean’s face was a mixture of anger, and enjoyment. He was really having fun. Addy struggle harder. She stared at him realizing only just then that he was still bare chested. Rain cascaded down his sculpted chest.  
She reached for her Spyderco knife clipped to her front pocket, she yanked it out and flipped it open, the blade glinting in the full moonlight. She drug the blade across his torso from the bottom to the top as hard as she could, the brass knuckles hindering her grip just slightly.  
Blood spilled out profusely, soaking her clothing even through the pouring rain. He screamed wildly, and grabbed her by the throat with one hand, and squeezed. He hit her in the face with his other, crushing her nose, her head slamming into the ground. She dropped her knife as white spots filled her vision, now lost in the mud. His grip tight, his black eyes shining in the effulgence of the moon, the smile from his lips gone. Suddenly Addison was hit with confusion. He wasn’t squeezing tight enough to completely cut off her air, just enough to make her panic.  
Once again being small worked to her advantage. Her feet finding hold in the grooves in the ground she’d dug with her struggles. She pushed her hips up hard throwing him off balance just enough enough to slide a muscular leg up catching his bent knee with her foot. She kicked as hard as she could. She felt the knee give, and Dean screamed. He fell to the side. She immediately got to her feet, as did he. He popped his knee back in place, and was ready for whatever came next.

She was standing arms raised in a protective stance, brass knuckles gleaming.  
“Oh, you still wanna go?” He seemed almost shocked. “You must have a huge hate-on for me”  
“Something like that.” She said catching her breath.  
“I can do this all night, sister”  
“For your sake I hope you don’t.” She mumbled.  
“Or what? You’ll try your tricks again, Holy water, Devil's Traps, Shackles, Demon blade? Psshh!!!” He stepped closer to her and laughed in her face.  
“Come on give me your best.” He really didn’t want to see what her best actually was.  
She took one step forward, planting her back leg for balance, and punched him as hard as she could in the nose. Really putting all the muscle she could behind it. Before he could even start to heal she hit him again in the right cheek. He stumbled backwards, and she moved forward throwing combos, punch after punch, left and right. She was really making him angry. She hit him in the ribs, and he groaned, as he started to reach for them. She hit him in the face again, and again. She was growing tired, and Dean knew it.

Dean, having had enough of this shit, hit her in the face as hard as he could. She dropped to the ground still conscious, but her vision blurred. She tried to regain her footing, but was kicked hard in the left hip, he’d missed her ribs, and she fell to the ground again. “You done now?” he asked amused. “ Not that this hasn’t been one of the best fights I’ve ever been in. Real fun." He taunted.  
"Who’d have thought a little thing like you could hold their own with me. Normally I'd just have killed you, and gotten it over with, but you have some real talent, you’ve got grit.”  
She glared at him from the ground.  
“Fuck you, pussy!” She screamed.

He kicked her hard again in her left hip. She tried to move away from him, and was assaulted with multiple blows to her back, ribs, shoulders, and her arms from his boots.  
Jesus Christ! Stop! I’ll fucking kill you, whatever it takes! She thought in an insane rage. The barrage of blows to her body stopped, and she was still. She lay there trying to catch her breath. Her back, and shoulders burned. Her ribs ached terribly. The pain was spreading throughout her body like waves of fire.

“This whole hunting thing doesn’t work out for you, you should consider joining my Side.” He said genuinely. She turned her head spitting out blood from a split lip.  
“Never in life, bitch! I’d rather die!”  
He just shook his head “ All the goody-two-shoe hunters want to believe that their side is the right side. Why not join the winning side? There’s a reason we’re winning.”  
He’s really lost his fucking mind. She thought. He caught her rolling her eyes. He was giving her that menacing glance again. She crawled to slowly to her feet.  
He stepped a little too close to her. She punched him again, exhausted. Dean swiped her legs out from under her, a move she should have see coming.

He was on top of her again. She wrapped her strong legs around his torso, and wasn’t letting go for anything. Dean was hitting her in the face, the ribs, anywhere that would hurt, or disorient her long enough for her to let go. She squeezed her legs tighter. She sat up, legs locked around him, landing her own blows, but knew they were ineffective. Falling back, she felt a blow to her jaw, though not as hard as before.  
He was pulling punches now? She rose from the ground, briefly locked her hands around his neck, and pulled him towards her as she lay back again. Pulling her legs up she pushed her feet into his stomach, and using all the muscles in her legs, pushed, sending him over her head, and onto his back.  
Sliding to his side in the mud, she straddled him, now. The bandanna on her right hand was soaked in blood, and dirty rain water. The cut from the long forgotten shattered glass had split open wider when she’d stuck him with the brass knuckles. She punched him in the face as hard as she could with her left, the knuckle dusters were doing damage, but none that was lasting long.. He just laughed some more.  
“A lefty, huh?” She was thoroughly pissed now. “No, darlin’, I can kick your ass with both hands, probably tied behind my back.” she smirked, and rolled her eyes. It was such a “Dean” remark. Though not really a joke. At more than one point in last several years she actually had fought with her hands tied.  
“Oh you have a sense of humor now?” Dean said giving her a look of amusement. She hit him again with her left.  
“I never lost it, bitch.” In single movement she pulled the demon blade she’d tucked back into her boot, and held at his throat. “Let’s see how fucking funny you think this is.” She growled.  
He gave her a smug look, “Do it.” He said raising his hands with a smile.

She pressed the knife against his skin hard enough to draw blood, She hesitated, and could not bring herself to slice through the arteries. Any other demon, and she would have never hesitated. It wasn’t the fact that she’d been told to bring him back alive.  
That had gone out the window the moment he threatened her, escaped his bonds, disappeared, and she had been somewhat in fear for life. She hadn’t been afraid really. It had just been fun, and games up until this point now.  
The reason she couldn’t do it was because his eyes were now green again, with flecks of gold, and touches of almond brown. He was giving her his beautiful pouty-lipped, innocent loot. It was almost Dean, but not quite. He was still a monster, and maybe he’d have to be put down, but not at this moment. Not by her. Not just yet, but if he gave her another reason she’d skip slicing his throat, and just plunge the knife into his heart, or what was now left of it anyway. Possibly both. She knew the Winchester's history with Knights, and seeing as how she didn’t have the weapons, or the spells to stop him, it was old school all the way for now. She knew the knife wouldn't kill him anyway.

They continued to stare at each other, neither moving. Neither trusting. Rain poured down on both of them. Her hair was sticking to her face.  
She stared into those eyes lit only by moonlight, beautiful still. No, She wouldn’t allow herself to go there.  
Thunder boomed, and lightning illuminated the sky.  
Straddling his hips, pressing the knife to his throat, she couldn’t help but notice the way the rain cascaded over his perfect bare skin now. You beautiful son of a bitch. Remembering long lost feelings, and their moment upstairs she was distracted, only for a moment, but it was long enough.

Instant regret as she felt cold metal slice through her jacket cutting deep into her left arm. The forgotten the Spyderco knife. It was incredibly sharp, and leather or not, there was nothing that would stop that blade from doing it’s intended job. She grimaced, and slugged him hard with her right.  
How could she have been so stupid? He smiled, “ Doesn’t feel very good does it? Or didn’t you like it rough?” His eyes black once more, reminding her of just who, what, she was dealing with. Knife still to his throat, she raised her left arm again, fully intending on breaking his jaw this time, he sliced her across her belly. She barely felt it. She started to bleed badly through her now ripped shirt. He was inhumanly strong, and that blade was specifically designed to kill. How had he not just ended her?

What game was he playing? Was he toying with her again? She squeezed her knees tighter around hips, not moving the knife. She hit him with another left hook. Smiling, he turned his head, and spit blood. He really seemed to be enjoying this. He raised the knife again, and quickly shaking off the brass knuckles she wore on that hand she grabbed his wrist with her left hand, pushing with everything she had. He was too strong, and in seconds she was thrown onto her back landing hard in the mud, her head bounced on a hard patch of grass.  
He jumped up. As she started to climb to her feet he kicked her in her already throbbing ribs. She wheezed out a scream, and tried to inhale. As bright spots filled her vision, she began to shake. She rolled onto her back holding her ribs, looking at him with fury.

She started to raise her hands, and thought better of it, instead held her ribs and focused on breathing.  
He knelt down to her side, tilted his head and stared into her eyes, looking her up and down, watching her bleed, and tremble.  
He turned his head up to the rain, closing his eyes and inhaling the smell of earth, rain, and her blood. He turned back to her and grinned. Though it hurt, her breathing quickened. She was sure this was it.  
She’d failed. She always told herself that if she died doing the job, that she would go down swinging, shooting, or stabbing, and she had. With all her might, she had. Only she’d failed. Of course if you were killed doing the job, you probably died a failure anyway, unless you went down taking the thing you were fighting with you. That, you could consider a win, unless you also took another human with you as well. She always thought, though, that she could be proud of that. Proud to go down fighting, but not now. This had been personal mission. She couldn’t fail. Only she had, and that hurt more than any wound she’d ever received, and she’d received many over the years.

Dean continued to stare into her eyes. Almost studying her. She was angry, and she wasn’t even close to being afraid. Her body quivered, hands shaking. He leaned in close, despite the wind, and the rain she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. He breathed in deep, sat back on his heels, and just stared at her, head cocked like an animal. Squinting at her her said, “You really aren’t afraid of me. I could smell it the moment you entered the house. The first time you swung your knife. When you searched for me through the house, when we fought.Not once have you been afraid of me. Now, that is unusual. What’s wrong with you?” She stared at him.  
Haven’t you figured it out yet, Dean? She screamed at him angrily in her head.

She probably should have been afraid at this point, but she truly didn’t remember the last time she’d really feared anything. No, that was a lie. She really didn’t have much to be afraid of after all she had been through. There had been a time, but she quickly pushed the memory away. No point in going to dark places.  
“Interesting.” He said, then, as if he couldn’t help himself he quickly, and fiercely sliced her across her right thigh with the Spyderco right through her jeans. It was like slicing butter. It was a deep wound, and she howled in pain. She pulled in deep breath after ragged deep breath. He just watched her. She tried to push herself up with her hands, the wound on her right hand tearing further. Her ribs screamed. She fell back flat. She breathed hard. The pain in her head, and the rain rushing into her eyes blurred her vision.  
“I’ll fucking kill you, I swear! If it’s the last thing I do!” she screamed as the rain washed over her. The wind moaning as it blew all around her. She was so cold.

“I hate you!” She didn’t know why she’d yelled that, and stopped short. Shit! He was sure to figure out that he knew her sooner or later, and she thought now she’d just made it easier on him.

“Huh.” He said.  
He stood suddenly, turning away from her, and very slowly started walking back toward the house.  
The pouring rain stung her fresh wounds. Her attention was completely on him now, and nothing else.  
She watched him tread back to the old house, never once turning back to her. She laid in the mud, and the water, letting the rain rush over her body. Staring at the trees blowing angrily above her, she screamed in frustration.  
She stared at the brilliant moon, begging the Gods for some kind of help. Dizzy, and exhausted, the stars appeared to be melting together. She blinked hard, trying to clear her head.

“What the fuck do you want with me?” She yelled. She knew this wasn’t the end, not yet. Not when she had her own personal secret weapon she'd been saving.

Sure he was still toying with her, she rolled over, and climbed slowly to her feet. Dean had already disappeared into the house. She pulled the .45 from her hip. Kill, or be killed, right?  
She wasn’t about to be killed by some monster, no matter who he had once been. Maybe she was too late to save him anyway? Maybe that person was long gone. She limped back to the house.  
Soaking wet, her leather jacket too heavy now. Fuck it. She was already injured, what did it matter? She peeled the jacket off, and left it on an old bench on the worn out back deck. Blood was pouring down her right leg at an alarming rate. She entered the house where he’d once again left the door open. Inviting.

She had her pistol raised, finger putting pressure on the trigger. No more playing around, no more games. She limped through the kitchen her boots squeaking with every wet, and bloody step. Through the kitchen entryway, she stepped into the living-room, and found Dean standing near the sofa glaring at her with those menacing black eyes. She was done playing, done fighting. She was too tired. Too emotionally drained. This had to end. They stared at each other in their dirty, blood soaked clothes.

“Why don’t you come take a seat?” he offered dryly. No humor in his voice now. Just another demon trying to fuck with her and she was done with it. He took one step toward her she and pulled the trigger on the .45. It bucked in her grasp, but she hardly noticed. Dean laughed as the bullet hit him in the chest just left of the heart. “ You missed, bitch.” He said voice cold as ice.  
“I never miss.” She said pulling the trigger three more times, each round hitting him center mass. Dean just stood there. Confusion, shock, anger, and was that pain on his face? His hand went up to his chest, pulling it way he saw blood. Only this time it felt different.

He felt true physical pain, where before any injury had been merely just an annoyance, a game to him. Something he’d easily recover from.  
He slumped to the floor, trying to understand what had just happened. He fell over, lying on his back looking at the ceiling. He couldn’t move. He was in unbearable pain, but never made a sound. He breathed heavily, a sucking sound coming from his lungs now filled with blood, and holes. Keeping the gun pointed at him she walked over to his side. He turned his head, and clumsily he reached out for her. A bloody hand stroked her boot, the closest thing he could reach, and he stopped moving.  
He was fully incapacitated for the time being, and should be for quite some time. Addison hit the magazine release on her weapon, and showed him the rounds she’d so carefully made. He rolled his head back up toward the ceiling, sighing hard again. Blood poured from his chest onto the old, cold wood floor.  
“I deserve that, but you know it won’t kill me. Just finish it already.” he moaned.  
Why is he being a baby? She wondered gently shaking her head.  
Addison, feeling dizzy, sat on the ground next to him leaning against the couch still ignoring the pain she was in. She ripped the bottom of her shirt off, and wrapped it tightly around the deep gash on her arm, using her teeth to help pull the knot tight. Blood pooled beneath her, running across the floor mingling with Dean's.

She looked around the room, and saw a discarded shirt draped over the back of the couch that she must have missed while she was drunk. Using her elbows she raised herself to the couch. She reached painfully, grabbed the shirt, and pulled the spare Kershaw pocket knife from her back pocket. She cut, and tore the shirt into strips, and tied it around her heavily bleeding thigh. Her belly was still bleeding, but no too badly, and she placed her hands over it, pressing hard, trying to make it stop. That wound didn’t seem too bad, but the arm would need suturing. She had a first aid kit upstairs, but didn’t want to get up at the moment to tend to her wounds. Her leg was a different story. It continued to bleed, and she tried to hold pressure on it, but to no avail. She was so tired. She tightened the makeshift tourniquet a little more.

She leaned forward looking at Dean. He had fallen just close enough to the couch that he could reach her, but at this moment he physically couldn't. His eyes were that beautiful shade of bright green again, with touches of yellow.. They looked sad.  
She watched him as she held her ribs gently with one hand, and tried to apply pressure to her leg with the other. She knew he couldn't be sad, that was a human emotion, and he wasn't human anymore.  
Dean coughed, blood covering his beautiful red lips. She turned her head. She’d seen a lot, but couldn’t watch this. That awful sucking noise coming from his chest was almost too much for her.  
Now, all I have to do is paint another magical trap, and get the magical handcuffs from upstairs. I should have shot him sooner. The thought was funny, if her ribs didn’t hurt so bad she would have laughed out loud.  
She held back the laughing for now. None of this was funny. He had been human once. Someone, people, stilled loved him. Still wanted, and hoped that he’d come back home, and return the same way he had left. Black eyes gone forever.

Dean breathed deeply again, wheezing. His eyes turned black. “ I Said Kill Me, Bitch! DO IT!” She kicked him hard in the ribs, and he gasped in pain, rolling to his side. He was having trouble breathing, but he wasn’t dying. “ Please,” he begged.  
She just stared at him emotionless. She hadn’t felt pain like this in a long time. Not since watching her family die, but that had been ages ago. She couldn’t tell if Dean meant it, and it tore her heart in two. Surprising herself, her eyes filled with tears. Far away memories flooded her mind, and she shoved them out quickly. His breathing was shaky, wheezing with every inhale and exhale. He coughed more blood. She just sat, and watched him.  
Get it together! You’ve got a demon who tried to kill you lying at your feet. Do something!

“I’m done.” she said as she carefully stood up.  
“I’m done.” she repeated. “I’m not doing this anymore, I’m out. I hate this life, I don't want anything more to do with it.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she sobbed watching the once strong man struggle to breathe. She tossed her gun to floor. “When you eventually recover, which shouldn’t be much longer, I’ll be upstairs, you’ll know where to find me. Then you can kill that little girl that they sent after you. That little girl that had no problem killing you.”  
He rolled his eyes toward hers, still black, and glistening. Confusion still on his face  
“I’d have done it, too. Even though I was asked to bring you back alive, but you and I both know that’s not going to happen.”  
His lungs whistled as he sighed a deep sigh, winced in pain.  
“There’s only one way this is going to end, and it’s not going to be me bringing you in.” Her voice caught through her sobs. “ I’ve been tired for a long time, Dean, and I’m sure you have too. I’m fucking done. So when you can, come find me, and just end it, and be free. Be free to be what you are now. No pain, No regrets, not a care in the world. Who the fuck am I to stop you?”  
She looked at him sadly.  
“I kind of envy you, really. I know, me, envy a fucking demon? I must be as fucked up as you said I was, or was it questionable morals you said I had? Doesn’t matter. It’s too much.”  
She sighed heavily. “ I just need all of it to end. The pain, the nightmares, the fear. So no, YOU do it! You kill me. I know you will anyway, because obviously I can’t kill you.”

Dean closed his eyes. Was this badass hunter actually giving up? She was a real fighter, and now? He didn’t understand. He didn’t like the way it made him feel.  
Feel. That was a funny word to him, and he half laughed through his physical pain at that thought. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything. He’d been too busying forgetting, and having fun. Being a demon had it's perks. Murder, mayhem, he could do whatever he wanted without regret, and no one could stop him.

 

Addison turned, leaving Dean wheezing on the floor in pool of both their blood combined. She trudged, limping, up the old staircase. The gurgling sound he made as he choked on his own blood, and the whistling of his chest with his every breath almost broke her, and she slowed. Since when did she care so much? If it wasn't Dean she honestly would have made sure he was dead, and gotten the fuck out of there, and cleaned herself up.  
She was furious with herself. It wasn’t like her to be so careless, and distracted. Especially because of some man. But Dean Winchester wasn’t just any man. In their youth they had gotten pretty close. They were best friends, and more. She had loved him fiercely, until John had put a stop to that. They even both looked out for Sam. She hung her head momentarily.  
Poor Sam. She couldn’t think about any of that, any longer.  
Her body started to tremble the more pissed she got. She stopped her thoughts there, standing on the steps for a moment longer, controlling her anger. She took a shaky breath, and continued on.  
Holding onto the rail on the left of the wall for dear life with both damaged hands. She made it to the top gently holding her ribs with her left hand, she leaned against the right side wall for support. Her bloody, marred right hand left marks across the wall. Blood still spilling down her right leg, She made it down the hall leaving a trail of blood in her wake. She entered the bedroom where the fight had first started, dragging her right leg behind her.  
Would she really let it end here? All of it? No more running, hiding, killing, starving, stealing, exhaustion? Could she actually be serious?

 

Of course not, it was a ruse, and by the way Dean had reacted back there she could tell he still had something resembling human inside of him. That was a little reassuring. She almost did feel bad for him. Pitied him was more like it, and she didn’t pity anyone. Didn’t have time for it. It was useless emotion for something like him, just another distraction.  
That had been Dean lying on the floor not just some demon. Damnit! She scolded herself.  
In that moment she truly believed that she had been the wrong person for the job, regardless if she was supposed to just watch him, or not. She was being careless, and sloppy. Too distracted with her own personal demons to be efficient.

She shouldn’t have left the gun with him, but was too tired to carry it. She’d barely made it up the stairs. She was sure he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. Besides she had still had a wild card if she just absolutely had to use it.

She wiped her face with her shirt, wincing as she cleaned sticky blood, sweat, and false tears from her cheeks. She eased herself to the floor by the bed leaning her sore back, and shoulders against the side of the mattress, her legs stretched out in front of her. Her whole body ached.  
She really was exhausted, that much was true. This wasn’t a life she would have chosen for herself, but it wasn’t like she’d been given much choice. She been thrown into it to save her life. Well, that's what she'd been told as a child.

She tried to reach for a bag she’d slung underneath the bed not two hours before she had entered that bar, and stopped to catch her breath. Her ribs were singing “Ave Maria” and she groaned in pain. She looked down, and saw blood pooling from underneath her. The slash in her thigh was bad. Undoubtedly bad, but she doubted it’d kill her. She’d has worse, right?  
She couldn’t tighten the tourniquet any more than she already had for fear of cutting off the blood supply to her leg.  
She was losing energy, that was her biggest problem at the moment. She really needed to get out of here.

She stopped, and took a very slow deep breath. “You’re fine.” She said trying to reassure herself. “You’re gonna be just fine.”  
Instinct told her she had to fix herself up, and fast. She grunted, searching for the bag. She needed to stay the bleeding from her leg before she passed out, again she wasn’t too terribly worried about dying. She’d had worse, but had never even come close to fighting a fucking Knight of Hell. She knew she was in trouble. She knew she should have done what she was told and only observed, but how could she? Wasn’t the whole point of “the job” to protect the innocent?

The truth was she really didn’t want to die. Wasn’t ready yet. She didn’t know what was in store for her if she did. She knew there was a Heaven, and Hell, but who would take her? Who would get to her first was more like it. She certainly knew which side wanted her.

“This is bullshit!” She whispered harshly to herself. She wasn’t used to being so personally wrapped up in a job, and definitely wasn’t used to getting her ass kicked. She was getting angry. The tremors started again. Just breathe, you’ll kick his ass later. She told herself, taking another slow breath. She knew he wasn’t dying, just indisposed.  
Her hand found the handle of an old backpack, and just as she started to slide it out from under the bed she heard movement down stairs. She froze straining to listen above the storm making the old house groan in the wind.  
She heard shuffling on wood. The sound was definitely coming from inside the house.  
Her heart jumped in her chest. “Shit!”  
How was he moving so quickly after that? He shouldn’t be. Couldn’t be, right? Unless he was actually doing what she had thought he was doing... and it worked, but to what effect?

Pulling the bag out, she left it at her side, leaned back against the bed, and closed her eyes. She took a silent breath, and exhaled slowly. Boots on the stairs made her eyes snap back open. “Fuck!” She whispered to herself. One shaky hand went for the demon blade she kept tucked in her boot, on impulse, but she couldn’t find the strength.

She was covered in cuts, scrapes, bruises. Who knew what was broken. Her back, shoulders, and ribs hurt with every breath. Her right eye was swelling from the massive blow to her cheek that was still bleeding. That most definitely had to be fractured. She was bleeding terribly from an eight inch gash inside her thigh, and was getting dizzy. She didn’t think it was an artery, but couldn’t seem to care. How had she made it up the stairs? Her eyelids were heavy.  
The pain wasn’t what really bothered her. The fact that she could barely physically defend herself was the worst part for her. She was almost useless. Almost. She was cold, but sweat rolled down her face. She wiped it away with her left hand, smearing blood across her face. She dropped her hand back down to the floor, still listening.

Slow footsteps down the hall. She tensed up again, and winced as every muscle seemed to beg her to stop moving. Dean’s boots scuffled on the old wood floor in the hallway. He had a limp. Lot of good that does me, he’ll shake that off in no time. She thought to herself, annoyed.

Thunder boomed, resonating throughout the house, then it was quiet again.  
When she looked up, Dean was leaning in the doorway holding the .45.  
“You really shouldn’t just leave these things lying around, someone could get hurt.” He said scratching the side of his head with it nonchalantly. He crossed the room slowly, skirting around the devil’s trap. She watched him move, eyeing him up and down. He was still injured as far as she could tell, but not for much longer. He stopped at the dresser, turned around, and pressed his palms onto the hard wood, leaning against it.  
There were 4 angry welts where her bullets should have ripped apart his chest.

“Stand up.” He said looking at her with a cold blank expression. Eyes green, but they’d lost their charm long ago.  
She stared at him, sighed, but didn’t argue. Reaching for the bed behind her she slowly struggled to pull herself up, crying out from the pain coming from her entire body. She tried to stand, and fell onto the bed in a seated position. Squeezing her eyes shut, she leaned forward. She didn’t think she could do it.

“Stand. Up.” He repeated, emphasizing the words. He was pissed.  
She looked up at him slowly. Eyes almost pleading, but still not ready to give up just yet. Dean pointed the gun at her, aiming for her face. Palms pressed hard into the bed for support, she shoved herself to her feet, leaving bloodstains on the sheets from her various injuries.

“Now take a few steps forward.”  
She complied.  
“Good, stand there.” He walked over, and held the gun out to her sideways. “Take it.” He said in a low rough voice. She took the weapon. What did he want?  
Was making a half-dead girl stand on her feet the beginning of some kind of torture, because she could probably teach him a thing, or two.

She held the gun in her left hand though it throbbed from the many blows she’d managed to land on his smug face with the long lost brass knuckles. God, I hope he doesn't have those. Her confused mind said.  
Her right hand was bleeding freely again from forcing herself from the floor. Blood was pouring down her leg, soaking her jeans, spilling over her boot onto the ground. She swayed on her feet.  
She sighed shakily, painfully. All she wanted to do was collapse on the floor, and never get up. She’d been beaten before, sure, but had always managed to pick herself back up. Stitch, and dress her wounds, find the thing, and kill it. This time she didn’t want to. Not just because she was exhausted, but because she truly would kill him if she could find a way.  
Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to fight. To shoot the demon, kill him if she could, and get it over with. She didn’t want to have to kill him, but if she couldn’t save him, may as well put him down. That was the job.

“You asked me to kill you, because you couldn’t kill me.” He said glaring at her. “Dude, who fucked you up so bad? Was it mommy, or was it daddy? Both?”  
She started to shake. The mentioning of her parents caused her heart to race. Blood soared through her veins. Her bruising face reddened.  
Using what little strength she could muster, she raise the gun.  
“There’s that anger! You really should work on that!” he laughed pointing at her.  
She was on the verge of losing it. She closed her right hand in a fist, blood dripping to the floor, with her left she squeezed the grip of the pistol so hard her knuckles turned white, focusing on the pain to keep her from losing her cool. She inhaled slowly causing sharp pains from her ribs, and closed her eyes momentarily on exhale.  
She heard him walking up to her, and opened her eyes to find him circling her slowly. Unable to follow him she continued to watch him, not saying a word. She was being toyed with, and she knew it. The question was for how much longer? What was his end game?  
Maybe he was still trying to figure her out? It didn’t really matter.

He stopped behind her, “Now, I gave you your precious gun back. So, you’re going to tell me a story.” He whispered leaning his face against the side of her head. trying to move her face away from his, she swayed, almost falling. He caught her from behind, causing more pain. She gasped.  
“Nope, not yet.” He said holding her arms firmly. Causing the laceration to start bleeding down her arm again. Blood dripped from her fingertips and over the gun. She was so cold.  
She wanted to lean into him, and just close her eyes. He was radiating heat, and smelled of sweat, blood, rain, and sulfur and it stopped her. This wasn’t her Dean.  
The smell was much stronger than your typical demon, and unless you knew better you’d never guess the smell was sulfur, let alone that it was coming from a demon.

She was nauseous. The booze had definitely not helped her situation. Her stomach turned. This was not like her at all.  
The stench was so strong that she couldn’t help but wonder if he was getting stronger. Not just embracing the demon he’d become, but actually letting it take over, and becoming a true Knight of Hell.

He did seem to manage to recover from not one but four .45 rounds to the chest with Devil’s traps rather quickly, or was she losing track of time. She couldn’t tell anymore. Her head was swimming.  
He quickly let her go. She stood on her own, shoulders slumped, she was going to fall any second.  
“Ok, I’ll start, who’s looking for me, and how are you associated with them?”  
She just stared at him. This again? Come on! She thought with annoyance.

“Conversations usually work better if the other person talks too. Wanna try that again?” He asked waving his hand in a "get on with it" motion.  
She wouldn’t be giving up her actual source, ever in life.  
So she said “They didn’t give me a name, just a number.”

“ .... Aaand who are They, and what number?” He asked, truly intrigued.  
“I met a few interesting characters at a bar, and was informed of your situation. The number was your address, dumbass.” She said slowly, trying to breathe, shaking. That was a lie.

Dean laughed, “ My situ.. My situation? My situation was wanting to left the fuck alone. Even Sam knew that. You haven’t heard from him by the way, have you?” He sneered, glaring at her.  
She looked up quickly at the name. He hadn’t mentioned his brother once since their encounter.  
“No one has, actually.” She replied. “We all just assumed you killed him, and skipped town.”  
Dean shook his head, and laughed to himself.  
Avoiding the topic he asked, “So what’d you find out from your friends? Don’t skip the details, now.”

She looked down at her feet. Was that much blood on the ground from her? The room seemed very bright. She was cold. His words sounded so loud, then they started to jumble. She was going into shock.  
She swayed again, started to double over, but steadied herself.  
She looked back up at him, “That you’re an asshole.” She mumbled.

“Point. I’m sure many would agree with you, but let's get back to those new friends of yours.” He said waving a finger at her. She shut her mouth.  
Dean walked back to the dresser, and pulled the Spyderco from the back of his jeans. Leaning against it, facing her, he waved the knife as he spoke,  
“You’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I’ll have to get creative with with this really pretty knife you left me. Very nice choice, by the way. Trust me, you’re not dying, not yet anyway, but by the time I’m done, you’ll beg for death.”

“Fuck you!” She snarled just above a harsh whisper. She wasn’t giving up. She couldn’t physically fight him, but she wouldn’t let him win.

The gun was too heavy in her aching hand. She couldn’t hold it any longer, and she wasn’t about to let the demon have it a second time. She was sure he wasn’t interested in it, he seemed to like up close and personal. Most likely torture.  
Not taking any chances she hit the magazine release, and the magazine fell into the puddle at her feet. With all the strength she could muster she racked the slide, ripping the laceration on her right palm further open. The remaining round clanked noisily on the hardwood floor. She weakly tossed the empty gun as far away from them as she could. Dean just shook his head, and laughed.

She was pissed. She was done with all the bullshit, and games.  
“So, what’d you do with the girl?” She asked.  
Dean grinned. “What girl?”  
“I’m not playing games with you anymore, demon! Where is she?” Her voice louder now.  
She had been casing the house for days. There had been a few girls in, and out of the house, but when she watched him leave that evening, his “date” from the night before had never left.  
“So that’s why you’re here.”  
He gestured at his chest. “Oh this? I’m fine by the way. Learned a new trick from Sammy.” He laughed, black eyes shining.  
“Yeah, I bet you are.”  
“If I were you, I’d have killed me while you still had the chance, that’s if you could. What are they teaching kids these days?”

He continued talking.  
She glared at him through wet, dirty, dark hair that had fallen into her face. She could barely hear him now with the ringing in her ears. Something about being flayed alive. She leaned forward, and placed her swollen left hand on her bent left knee. Supporting herself on her left leg made her left hip throb. He’d kicked her a lot harder than she’d thought. She didn’t think she could hold it together much longer. The cut on her stomach burned, and bled. All of her makeup either washed away, or smeared across her face, along with blood. The gash on her cheek was still bleeding, trailing down her face, jaw, and neck. That was a scar she wasn’t looking forward to.

She was certain she would be dead before he’d get his chance at flaying anything..  
She was covered in mud, blood, sweat. Her ripped white tank top, a dark orange rust color, and brown from bloodstains and mud, clung to her skin. Her blue jeans were still damp with rain, soaked in blood, and caked in filth. Her already pale skin was ghost white. Her eyes hollow. She trembled when she breathed. At least the pain was fading. For all intents and purposes she was dying on her feet. She stared at the ground trying to get her mind focus. Things were going gray. She tried to stand up straight.

“You really do love to hear yourself talk don’t you?” She muttered. She couldn't help her snark, and sarcasm in every situation.  
Her body started shaking violently, and she was losing the control she desperately hung onto.  
Dean took a step back, and cocked his head, staring at her with squinted eyes.  
Dean walked back up to her, looking her in the face. Once again taking in her scent. Really creepy, Dean. She thought repulsed.  
He stopped, and looked her right in the eyes,  
“Weren’t your eyes blue?”  
Oh shit! She thought, briefly. Her heart palpitated. Her blood pressure suddenly soared, causing severe vertigo.  
Dean started to say something else, she started to fall, before she was caught by blackness, she heard the windows explode.  
**********************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank your for reading! More to come soon!


	2. Dazed and Confused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aftermath of Her Fight With Dean  
> 

She woke with a start, wincing quietly in pain from her quick movement. She was lying on a bed of clean sheets in a dimly lit room. She’d been covered with a blanket, and was now warm. She rolled her eyes left to right. Her head was fuzzy, and she blinked a few times trying to get her surroundings to focus. _Where am I? _She wondered, very confused. She almost thought all of it had been a dream, but the pain told her it was not.__  
She slowly started to exam herself. She was dressed in over- sized sweats. _What? _She wondered.__  
She tried to take a deep breath, instantly groaned, and held it. Her ribs were on fire, and she placed a hand gently on them. She blew out a slow, shaky breath through split lips. Her hands throbbed, and she held them out in front of her. She couldn’t see them very well in the ill-lit room, but knew that they were fairly damaged. Both hands were cleaned, and wrapped in gauze. She ran her left thumb across the bandages, and could feel the sutures in her her right palm. _Okay… _She thought.__  
From under her blanket she carefully palpated her chest, abdomen, and arms. The slices, and contusions still present. The cut across her belly she had assumed wasn’t too bad had been stitched, and a long bandage taped over over it. The laceration to her arm had been sutured, and bandaged as well.  
_I hope whoever decided to play doctor did a good job. _She thought continuing her self examination. Slowly moving to her legs, the deep incision inside her right thigh was gone. _Interesting. _She thought.____  
She leaned back, the temptation to close her eyes, and sink further into the soft pillow she rested on was almost overwhelming. Her mind was soaring from the drugs someone had given her.  
She closed her eyes, suddenly foggy flashes of memories filled her mind. Fighting Dean, blackness, and a vague memory waking up surrounded by blurred figures talking hurriedly in tones of worry over her. She tried to remember what happened.  
************************************************  
Pain, copious amounts of pain.  
“Don’t fucking touch me! Who are you? ” She yelled frantically trying to fight the blurred figures looming over her. Pain wracked her body, and she couldn’t fight them no matter how hard she tried. She’d lost too much blood, and didn’t have the strength.  
“Calm down, we’re just trying to help. Stop moving!” A voice said frantically, trying to gently, but firmly hold her down.  
“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.” She mumbled through the pain induced haze.  
“She needs a hospital.” She’d heard one of the voices say.  
Hospital?  
“No! No hospitals! I’m fine!” She flailed, and screamed as pain shot through her body.  
She’s bleeding to death!” A panicked voice nearly shouted.  
“I’m not dying, remember.” She mumbled.  
“We’re just trying to help.” She heard a second voice say.  
“Fix the leg, and then get away!” She yelled at someone. Someone injected her with something, and the pain immediately started to ease, and she closed her eyes. Darkness once again.  
****************************************************  
Her hand went up to her face, where she tried to rub her eyes, and face. Big mistake. The cuts, contusions, and swollen eyes caused immediate pain. She winced, and lightly ran her fingers over the gash on her cheek, feeling the bumps of sutures through another bandage there, as well. _Well, that will will probably look just lovely. Guys dig scars, right? _She thought with a brief, annoyed sigh.__  
She moved her hand from her tender face up to her head, running her fingers through her stiff, dirty hair. Her head ached, though far from the the pain that had lanced through her skull as she was lying on the cold muddy grass. She had bumps, and cuts from her head hitting the ground, and being punched so many times.  
She grimaced as she sat up slowly, to check again. Again, big mistake. Pain shot through her like white hot knives being jabbed throughout her body. She lay back again, gritting her teeth as the pain slowly ebbed. Whatever medication she’d been given was doing a fine job. She lay there trying to focus on her breathing.  
“Oh, good, you’re awake.” She jumped at the unexpected voice, male, and very annoyed. She peered around the room, pale light from a lamp in a far corner cast inky shadows along the walls. Her gaze stopped at a figure sitting in a chair near her bedside.  
“Don’t worry, you’re fine. Well, as fine as to be expected after a beating like that.” The irritated, but concerned voice continued.  
The figure was tall, even in his seat. She couldn’t make out a face. Ignoring the pain for the most part, she slowly sat up in bed again, ready to defend herself if need be. Whatever she’d been injected with was really working, and making it hard for her to think clearly. Her pain should have been almost unbearable, but she was managing. What good was she if should couldn’t fight through a little pain, right?  
“Easy.” The voice tried to sooth. Confused, she moved her hands frantically behind her searching for anything to protect herself. Finding nothing, but a cold wall she pushed herself with her feet, despite the pain, edging her back towards it. Her hands trembled against the wall, and she heard something rattle overhead. Heart racing, she thought Dean was playing some kind of game, but how had he healed her leg? Why would he have cleaned her up? She wasn’t in the right mind, or physical condition to fight him. She had one option left.  
“Dean, don’t make me…” She warned, and stopped. She closed her eyes softly, and swallowed hard, fighting with everything she had to regain control. She opened them again, and let a slow breath.  
The figure’s shadow slowly climbed the wall behind him as moved to the edge of his seat. His long hair hung low in his face obscuring it further. The rattling intensified, and she heard something crack.  
“Hey, calm down! You’re OK, I’m not going to hurt you.” The voice softly reassured her, raising his hands slowly, slinging elongated shadows across the wall. She squinted her eyes painfully, searching her memory, and stopped short. In her drug induced haze realization hit, and the rattling stopped. She blinked hard, and let out a sharp, painful sigh of relief. It was Sam. Sam had saved her, with the help of his angel buddy no doubt.  
'Well, at least I won’t have to kill Dean.' She thought irrationally, as she blinked her eyes again to try to combat the blurriness from the pain despite the painkillers.  
As her mind started to clear a little, she knew she was back in the bunker with Sam where she had been the week before. Had she really fought the unkillable demon, and survived?.  
The tone of Sam’s voice told her everything she needed to know, and suddenly she was the one irritated. She rolled her eyes slowly. She didn’t need pity, or concern, and she certainly didn’t need to put up with someone being pissed off at her for doing her fucking job. A job she had volunteered for, but he had allowed her to take on.  
“Oh, come on! Really?” She yelled, and wheezed struggling to breath. She was angry she had been pulled from her fight. Injured as she was, she thought, slightly unrealistically, that she truly could have handled it.  
Carefully throwing the blanket that had been draped over her aside, she slowly swung her legs off the side of the bed. The pain, and grogginess made everything difficult. Scooting carefully to the edge of the small bed, her bare feet met the concrete floor, and she jumped slightly from the cold. She glared at Sam through the darkness room.  
“Seriously, you can ask me that? What the hell were you thinking?” Sam said, placing his large hands on his knees, and leaning forward.  
“I was thinking I was going to kick the shit out of your brother, and then probably kill him.” She grumbled sitting on the edge of the small bed. She placed her hands gently on her knees, and leaned forward a little, trying to breath without pain.  
“Yeah, I figured that much. When were you planning to do that exactly? Was it after you stopped bleeding out on the floor, or before, because I’m confused?” Sam said angrily.  
“I can handle myself!” She said indignantly crossing her arms lightly across her chest.  
“Yeah, you look it.” Sam said miffed, getting up from his chair.  
“Fuck you, Winchester.” She mumbled.  
“Nice. Why don’t you get some rest, and we’ll talk more later.” Sam said. She knew he was angry, but could still hear the worry in his voice.  
Looking down at her bandaged hands, she was thankful for the darkness in the room. He couldn’t see the shame on her face. She’d really screwed up, she knew that, but with all of the drugs in her system she was having a hard time piecing everything together. She still wasn’t a hundred percent sure what exactly happened. Her head was throbbing at a steady rate.  
She remembered bits, and pieces of her fight with Dean, but there were holes in the story, and it wasn’t like Sam had been there to help fill in the blanks.  
She looked up, and watched Sam start to exit the dark room, his shadow trailing him as he walked toward the door. He paused without turning around, “You can thank Cas later.”The door closed softly as Sam exited the room.  
_Thank Cas? What the hell happened?_  
She rose slowly from the bed, pushing herself up with her sore left hand. She stood still near the bed for a few moments on shaky legs, holding her ribs with her right arm,and her left hand over the bed in case she fell.  
When she was sure she wouldn’t fall she limped slowly, and carefully across the cold floor, and flipped on the light switch beside the door frame. The murky shadows disappeared, and she squinted hard against the glare of the overhead light. The old, round glass fixture was still, but there was a large crack in the side.  
She leaned her back against the cool wall, closed her eyes, and inhaled slowly through her nose. Opening her eyes she blew out a long shallow breath that burned her cut lips, and caused her ribs, and back to ache. The hard wall hurt her injured shoulder blades, but she leaned carefully anyway. She was pissed she’d allowed it to go so far with Dean. Never in her life had she been beaten as badly by anyone because of her own carelessness, and emotions getting in her way.  
She looked around the small room. It was almost bare save for a single twin bed shoved against the far right wall, an old wood nightstand next to it on the left, a small wooden dresser on the opposite wall, and an old brown chair leather chair near the bed previously occupied by Sam. A few empty wooden shelves lined both of the white walls. It was a room that obviously wasn’t lived in. A large duffel bag containing her belongings sat at the foot of the dresser where she’d left it.  
She limped slowly over to the chair Sam had been sitting in, and gently sat down. Her hip was throbbing, and she shifted in her seat trying to get a little more comfortable, but to no avail. She looked over at the nightstand. A bowl of blood tinted water with rags in it sat next to empty bandage packaging, ice packs, and a large first aid kit. Rubbing alcohol, extra suture thread, a suture needle, and scissors had been left sitting among the discarded items. Bloody rags, and gauze littered the floor between the bed, and chair. A bottle of liquid morphine sat next to the first aid kit. He’d brought out the good shit. The stuff they only used in absolute emergencies, where a hospital was not an option. Next to it was Valium. He’d given her a cocktail to put her out. Leave it up to Sam, Mr. Pre-Law, to basically be the doctor in the family. Though, most of what he knew he’d gotten from his father, and Bobby. Reading several books, and Google hadn’t hurt either.  
Sitting in that chair she could see the bed from Sam’s point of view. Blood covered the pillow, and sheets she’d been laying on. It was a generous amount. _So much for clean. _She thought to herself.__  
She slowly hung her head causing her neck to ache, and saw the bottle of whiskey sitting on the floor next to the chair. The mess hadn’t been cleaned, and he had been sitting in a chair next to her bed drinking. Her guess was he had sat with her until she had woken up. Who knew how long she’d been out. The alcohol explained his angry attitude, she assumed. It wasn’t like Sam to be so harsh to someone so badly injured. She remembered that much from growing up with him, but maybe things change over time? Didn’t they usually? She ran her left hand through her dirty, tangled hair thinking about how she’d gotten into this mess. A mess she intended to help clean up, while also possibly clearing up a few personal issues she had with the Winchesters, and move on.  
She’d come to the bunker with Sam and stayed only long enough to be shown an extra room where she’d slung her bag of clothes, and to learn a little about Dean’s predicament. Not having all of the necessary information on Dean was her fault, but she just couldn’t sit in the bunker with Sam long enough to get the full story. She wasn’t comfortable being around Sam yet. Everything was different, and new now. It had been something like ten years since she last saw any of them. She was still too angry with the Winchesters, but owed Dean a promise she’d made, and she intended to keep it, no matter how angry she was. Sam wasn’t really one of the ones she was mad at in the first place. He was too young when everything went wrong, and it wasn’t his job to look after her. She’d been one of the ones to look after him when they were growing up. Still she had been convinced, by not only herself, that he was guilty by association. She got the info she needed, and left with the gear that was to help take Dean down should she need it. Lot of good any of that did.  
Sam knew he was in over his head, but couldn’t exactly throw up a signal, and have every hunter in the States gunning for his brother. He didn’t want the blood of other hunters on his hands, or his brother dead, just home, and relatively back to normal.  
She just happened to be at the same bar Dean had been hanging out in one night. She was trolling for demons, and had come across Dean in all his black-eyed glory while he was in the middle of a fight with another guy. Over what, she didn’t know, or care. She was about to intervene when she saw Dean’s eyes go black as he grinned, and hit the guy until he was unconscious on the floor. She probably should have checked on the guy, but instead she payed for her drinks, and slipped out the front door before he saw her. She didn’t have much of a choice is how she justified that whole situation. It was Dean, she knew that much, but where was Sam?  
Fearing for Sam, she tracked him down through acquaintances, and had him meet her at a coffee shop to discuss the situation. He was shocked to hear from her to say the least, but heard her out without question. Of course he had already known the situation. He was surprised she’d seen Dean at all, but glad it had been her, and not other hunters he knew. If it had been anyone else he doubted he’d have gotten a call at all checking on him, let alone asking to help him.  
Sam had only allowed her to help because he knew she was one of the very few hunters who could be of actual use, and probably not kill Dean. She knew Dean on a personal level, and that gave her the upper hand, had talents no one else had, she could really fight if she had to, and she had been very insistent. Though they hadn’t seen each other in many years, he felt he could trust her, and he needed all the help he could get. Besides, what did she have to gain from any of this?  
Sam didn’t know at the time she had a vendetta against him, and his brother. He just thought she genuinely wanted to help them.  
The truth was she really did want to help, but there was something she wanted out of it, and it wasn’t to kill Dean unless that was the only option left. The only person she’d even dreamed about killing, was already dead. Not that she didn't still have a lengthy list. She’d just have to wait a little longer until they cured Dean to get what she wanted out of him.  
She sighed softly to herself. She shouldn’t be so angry with Sam, what happened wasn’t his fault at all. Promise, or not, that was probably the only reason she agreed to help Sam. That, and he looked so broken down, and desperate.  
He had treated her with kindness, and she had been rude. She couldn't even bother to listen to Sam explain what had happened to Dean, let alone follow directions once she’d been asked to just watch him for a few days so they could figure out what he was up to. Sam was originally worried that if Dean spotted her, he would know that Sam was still alive. She knew she wouldn’t be spotted, she had shown Sam that much. A small glamour that turned her into her alter ego Addison. It was a perfect disguise, except that she only used it to change her face, eyes, and hair. She could actually change anything she wanted, but maintaining the glamour would be draining after a while, and she didn’t think she had to worry about the rest. Was she ever wrong about that one.  
**********  
Now here they were, her injured from head to toe, and him drinking, and pissed. She felt so incredibly embarrassed, and pissed off for not listening, and allowing herself to start a fight she had no business being in, and no way to win. She could only imagine how Sam felt. She imagined she looked as terrible as she felt, and from the look of it Sam was already blaming himself.  
Not able to rest with that thought in her mind, and even though she was in incredible pain despite the medication, she slowly eased herself up from the chair. She stood still for a moment, waited for the lightheadedness to pass, and to catch her breath. She cautiously walked to the door, though every little step was excruciating due to her injured hip, and ribs.  
She paused to pull up the bottoms of the sweatpants that hung low on her waist, and then pulled them up over her hips adjusting the string ties to keep them from falling off. The movements causing her injured ribs, and abdomen to throb, and her head to spin. She had to brace herself with her left hand on the door, and catch her breath again before she opened it, and walked out into the hallway.  
Sam was already gone, and not knowing which way to go, she closed her eyes, and could feel the pain, anger, frustration, and concern Sam was feeling coming from the right. The rush of the combination of emotions made her head spin, and she turned, and pressed her back against the hallway wall until she could shut them out. She felt like a goddamn dowsing rod at times.  
She’d apologize to Sam for her outburst, and not following directions, but other than that, she didn’t feel like she had much else to apologize for.  
She very slowly made her way down the hall, steadying herself against the wall on the left with her swollen left hand. Memories of being covered in blood, and mud, trying to make it down a hall flooded her mind, and she paused, and closed her eyes for a second to get control of herself. The euphoria from the meds almost made her stumble. She opened her eyes, steadied herself, and let out a gentle sigh. She continued her painful trek down the hall, and found Sam starting to sit in a chair in the library. She forgot her apology as soon as she saw him. She was still irritated about being scolded for trying to take down a demon. It didn't matter if it had been Dean, or not.  
“Hey! You, and your angel buddy can’t be serious!” She yelled incredulous. She swayed as she tried to control herself. Sam stopped. She was dizzy, and should have stayed in her room. Getting worked up wasn’t helping, but being the stubborn, pain in the ass she was, she just couldn’t let it go.  
“Whoa!” Sam yelled, alarmed at her presence. Rushing to her side, he very gently grabbed her around the waist, and led her to a cushioned brown leather chair near a bookcase. She could smell the bourbon on his breath, and turned her head away from him.  
“If you’re going to come in here to yell at me for saving your life, you could at least sit down before you fall down.” he said with a smirk.  
That smirk really annoyed her. Sam walked over to another chair that had a random throw pillow. He brought it over to her, and gently tucked it behind her back at her shoulder blades. She eased back into the pillow. The cushion, and support for her aching back and shoulders felt nice enough, but didn't help much.  
“Go on.” He said. “You were saying?” He said standing a few feet away from her with an eyebrow raised, and a smile in the corner of his mouth. He was drunk, or on his way to getting there.  
His attitude was pissing her off. It wasn’t the kindness, it was the smugness about it. She chalked that up to the booze, and let it slide for now. She didn’t really have the energy to argue, but nonetheless she was pissed, and wanted answers.  
“Don’t flatter yourself, I’ll heal soon enough, and finish the job. My injuries never last long. So, tell me what happened. How did you, and your friend find me?”  
Sam stared at her. “What are you talking about? What do you mean your injuries never last long?”  
She kicked herself mentally, “Nothing, don’t worry about it. I just mean that I’ll be fine.” Sam give her an inquisitive look, and let it go.  
She was too tempted to just be herself with the Winchesters, but knew that she shouldn’t let her guard down no matter who it was. That much had been drilled into her head since she was a ten year old girl. A ten year old girl who was learning about, cleaning, shooting, and wielding weapons no child had any business handling. Learning about demons, and werewolves. Vampires, and Shifters. All the things that went bump in the night, and there were so many. At the same time she was still learning things about herself.  
"I tracked the GPS on your phone." Sam said. "Cas couldn't find you. Nice tattoos by the way, you have more warding on your body than anyone I've ever met."  
"Yeah, well, can't be too careful." She replied.  
"Hmm"  
"So can you fill in the blanks for me?" She asked  
"I could ask you the same. Would you like to start?"  
She kept her mouth shut trying to be careful of what to say for now.  
Trying to sit as comfortably as she could, she sat eyeing Sam. Still trying to decide on what she wanted to say, or say what needed to be said. Both were bad, and Sam looked like a drunk that hadn’t showered in days, and had slept in even less.  
Sam returned to his seat. He flipped angrily though a book on the long wooden table in front of him, not really reading any of the pages. He placed the book back down on the table, picked up another, started to open it, and threw it back onto the table amongst other literature, files, loose papers, pens, a laptop, a police scanner that he’d turned off, and his Taurus 9mm. She was gorgeous.  
_Old habits die hard. _She thought looking at the gun. “Never leave yourself unarmed, ever. I don’t care what your situation is, or how you’re feeling, your weapon is a part of you. Take good care of her, and she’ll take good care of you.” John Winchester, the Marine’s voice rang in her ears.__  
From the look of Sam’s stainless steel pistol with mother of pearl grips, she could tell he’d probably been taking the thing apart, and cleaning it over, and over. She did the same thing with her guns when she was agitated. She almost felt naked without hers on her hip. Hell, she didn’t even have a knife.  
She looked around the room, and noticed the many weapons The Men of Letters had adorned the room with. Swords, daggers, among many other things. Ancient, no doubt. _Fifty dollars says Dean has a pistol strapped under that table. _She thought with a slight grin, Sam didn't notice. This place probably had beaucoup weapons, but knowing Dean, he’d want his own, and he’d want them in certain spots, for specific reasons, that sometimes only made sense to him. He had been that way was a teenager. With weapons in his closet, under the bed, in the nightstand, under his pillow, knife, and pistol on him at all times. That kid had been trained well. She blinked a few times easing the memories from her mind for now. She couldn’t afford to think like that. The man, demon rather, had tried to kill her. Then there was Sam who, despite his annoying her, looked pretty pitiful.__  
In all honesty Sam just looked like shit. He was dressed in an unbuttoned red, and black flannel shirt, with a black shirt underneath, blue jeans, and dark brown work boots. From the look of his wrinkled clothes, he’d been wearing them for a while. His dirty hair fell in his face in messy waves. There was a decanter containing a caramel colored liquid off to the side of the mess. _Fancy, Winchester. _She thought bitterly.__  
A half empty glass sat near his hand. He drummed his fingers on the table. She could tell he was still stewing, and she was about to get a lecture. He finished the remaining bourbon in his glass, set it back down on the the table, and took a deep breath, and exhaled roughly.  
He stood up quickly, and started to walk towards her. At 6’4, with a strong, muscular build, he should have been intimidating to someone her size, but she wasn’t in the slightest. She knew Sam, or she had, once upon a time. Everything was different now.  
They weren’t kids trying to make it in a world they had no business being in, any longer. Now they were just adults in the same world, still trying to survive, but with heavier hearts, and broken souls. She almost felt bad for him.  
Sam stopped, and looked quickly at the ground, then back up at her, then down again. Aware that he may be coming off as aggressive, he gently said, “Look, Diana, you were the one angle we had, and now I’m pretty sure he knows what’s up.” He was angry, but still tried to appear calm.  
It had been a long time since anyone had called her by her real name. She was always Addison, even without the glamour. Only a few knew her real name. The less people who knew who she actually was the less likely she was to be talked about, or found.  
“Don’t be so sure about that. Your brother was pretty dim as a human, you should see him now.”  
Sam glared at her.  
“Oh, wait you have! I forgot you were the one who gave him the idea in the first place!” She laughed sarcastically, and inappropriately. _Fucking painkillers! _She thought angrily to herself. What a stupid remark. She looked away from him, and picked at the bandage on her hand. Remembering that Sam had had his own run in with Dean, she actually did feel sorry for him now.__  
Dean had beaten him within an inch of his life, and left him for dead. If not for Castiel finding him, he would be.  
Looking back at her conversation with Dean, she wondered if Dean actually believed Sam was dead, and hunters were coming for revenge. That would make sense. The Winchesters had a lot of acquaintances.  
“My brother is far from stupid, and the idea for what, exactly?” He said, getting defensive.  
She shouldn’t have come at him like this. The medications were clouding her mind. She should have taken the advice, and gotten some more rest. She hadn’t had time to think. She knew she'd screwed up, but wasn’t ready to admit that yet. Besides, what was she going to tell him? _‘Hey, I saw your brother take some chick into that house, and she never came back out. By the way I didn’t find a body, so there’s no telling what he did with her. Also, I almost slept with him anyway after knowing the above things.’ ___  
She barely had a filter when she was sober, and now that she was pumped full of drugs she could say anything.  
Yeah, they probably should not be having this discussion right now.  
How much did he, and his angel friend know?  
“I’m gonna go lay down.” She said slowly trying to get up from the chair.  
“No, wait just a minute. You’re going to tell me what happened.” Sam said gently, still avoiding looking at her too much. It didn’t bother her.  
She stopped, and eased back into the chair. So maybe they didn’t know much. She looked down, avoiding having Sam try to read her face. She was too weak to shrug off emotions, and cover her expressions with a fake smile.  
“I never showed off my party trick so you have nothing to worry about.” She said evasively, looking up, and into Sam’s eyes.  
Sam looked down again. He’d always seemed a little nervous around her, even as kids. Now his nervousness had shifted into being overly kind, along with the attitude he couldn’t hide, and the fact that he couldn’t look her in face for more than five seconds.  
“Yeah, some good it does. You almost died.” Sam said, and couldn’t help but look at her beaten, and bruised face. He ran his hand through his long locks uncomfortably.  
She snickered holding her ribs.  
“I’m serious, Diana, this isn’t funny!” He yelled at her.  
“If I was that worried about it I’d have blown my cover, OK? Not that he’d have even figured out it was me.” She yelled back suppressing another laugh that made her face, and head hurt. She’d had worse. Probably should have died on more than one occasion, but she wasn’t even sure she could die. Not that she was going to test that theory. There were a lot of things about her the Winchesters, and other hunters didn’t know. If they did, they’d have hunted her a long time ago. Maybe she’d eventually tell Sam, but not tonight.  
She wouldn’t admit Dean had almost killed her, because he hadn’t, really. She only gave Sam a painful smile. Sam gave her a look that said he thought he knew better.  
Dean had almost successfully killed his brother in the previous weeks, so she understood his anxiety. Sam wasn’t a bad hunter, or fighter, far from it. He was one of the best she knew of. People in other hunter circles talked about him, and his brother. Not all of the talk was good, but they were increasingly becoming legends.  
Sam had helped teach her a lot of what she knew, and only as a kid himself. For all the things she hated the Winchesters for she could find forgiveness for Sam. Sam was too young, too innocent to blame. That, and he’d tried to get away from the life like she had planned to, but things hadn't gone well for her, and now she was a lifer, and so was he for that matter. They were both living out hellish life sentences, and neither of them knew what the other was guilty of. She’d tried to keep tabs on them, but she had herself to worry about, and plenty of her own shit going on. She honestly didn’t trust herself not to lose it with them.  
“Your brother’s still got it, I’ll give him that.” She chuckled softly. Sam gave her a look of disbelief. “Hey, credit where credit’s due, and all that.” She said with a slow shrug.  
“This isn’t about who’s the better fighter!” Sam said  
“Yeah, well, if it were we’d be having a much different conversation. Bastard’s just lucky he’s inhumanly strong, and heals like fucking Wolverine.” She muttered hiding a giggle. She was feeling pretty good. She tried to adjust to a more comfortable position in the chair, but there was no getting comfortable with broken ribs.  
“Dean is a good man, we just have…” Sam began to say.  
That was it for her.  
“He’s fucking killing people, Sam!” She interrupted.  
He looked at her like she had slapped him. The expression faded to something else.  
“...But you already knew that, didn’t you?’’  
He slumped into his chair his eyes not meeting hers. “Like I said, he’s far from stupid.”  
He had already tried to save his brother once using sanctified human blood, and a Latin incantation, but that had gone horribly wrong.Sanctified, or not the blood had had an opposite effect, making Dean just human enough that he helped himself out of the warded cuffs Sam had left him in, and waltzed right through a Devil’s trap. He’d beaten Sam within an inch of his life with a ball peen hammer, and left him for dead.  
“I tried to tell you, Di. I just didn’t think… I’d hoped he wouldn’t continue trying to use human blood to, I guess, keep himself safe.” He said shaking his head. She could tell he was blaming himself for that, too. That had to be something he picked up as a boy. Always trying to save his brother from their father, and never quite succeeding.  
“Sam, I’m sorry...” She started.  
He waved her off. “Save it, just go rest, and when you’re able, take a shower. You’re disgusting.” He said with a weak smile, trying to joke with her, but he looked exhausted.  
“You’re pretty ripe yourself, Sammy. Why don’t you take a break.” Diana said teasing, but serious. He needed a shower, clean clothes, and sleep.  
Sam just ignored her remark, and continued looking at some book on the table.  
“By the way, you, and you friend didn't manage to grab my weapons when you found me, did you?” She asked.  
Sam looked over at her like she was crazy.  
“You were half dead when Cas found you, pretty sure weapons were the last thing on his mind.”  
Diana rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll just have go back, and check when I’m all healed up.”  
Sam stood up, and walked back over to her. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back over there.” Giving her a look that told her he was very serious. To that she just had to laugh. Sam was going to have to stop thinking he could stop her, it was killing her ribs.  
Sam sighed, and returned to his seat.  
“Look, the things that got left behind have sentimental value, I’ve used them on almost every hunt I’ve been on, with the exception of the demon blade you loaned me.”  
“The blade is safe. It was still tucked in you boot, and now it’s back in my possession.”  
"Well, I appreciate the loan, and if there’s anyway you can tell me how to get one, that'd be great.” She’d have punctuated that statement with a wink if she could have.  
“So far as I know there is only one.”  
“Figures.” Diana grumbled.  
Sam looked her up, and down again. “You can barely breathe, let alone walk, and you're worried about about weapons? You should probably take a look in the mirror.”  
Diana looked down at her clothes, and pulled at the sweatshirt that hung on her frame. Blood stained the spot where her belly had been maimed.  
She knew her face, and body looked awful just by the way Sam struggled to looked at her. The last thing she wanted to do was look in a mirror.  
Not acknowledging what Sam had said she looked at him with a slight smile, and asked, “You mind telling me how I got into these?” She asked.  
“Yeah, those are mine. I wasn’t going to put you in bed covered in blood, and dirt, and I didn’t want to go through your things. You’re welcome.” He said shuffling through papers in front of him, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t mention providing medical attention. It wasn’t necessary.  
She carefully stood from the chair with a groan, and headed back to her room.  
“Touche.” She mumbled on her way out.  
Sam looked up just as she limped around the corner, and disappeared. That was something he hadn’t heard in a very long time. It was just a simple word to anyone else, but to the three of them it was more than just an acknowledgement of insult. Dean had started it one day during a bout of teasing when they were kids, and it had stuck. That was also the day the three of them had almost gotten themselves in a lot of trouble. Good times.  
********************************


	3. Broken, Beat, & Scarred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana assesses the damage caused by Dean. She may be down, but she's not out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to Chapter 2

She made it back to her room albeit gradually, and painfully. She knew full well that Sam’s angel could heal her battered body with the tap of a finger, but who needed that? She’d gotten this far without the help from any damn angel, and wasn’t about to ask, or accept help now. Yeah, she had grudge against angels, and the Almighty Himself for that matter. They had never been around when she needed them, and her last run-in with angels didn’t exactly go very well… for them.  
Discovering that the Winchesters had their very own guardian angel just pissed her off immensely. So he was probably what fixed her leg, and possibly saved her life. Big deal. She didn’t owe him, that angel, shit. At least he had left the rest of her alone. She was a fast healer, and should be well soon, or at least well enough.

Sitting on the edge of her bed trying to will herself to get up, and take a much needed shower, she looked around again. She was filled with so much anger, and no place to release it. She suddenly wished she had something to hunt. Something easy like a Vampire to get her fix. The thought of not being able to hunt at the moment filled her with anger. The thought of not being able to hunt at the moment pissed her off even more. A quick hunt was almost always the best way for her to release pent up anger.  
She closed her swollen eyes, and trembled slightly. Thanks to the drugs she was able to stay calm for now. 

Opening her eyes again, she scanned the floor looking for her bag of clothes, noticing something she hadn’t before. Her bloodied boots, and socks were tossed in a corner. Her jeans, cover in blood, and muck had been cut off, and thrown in the same corner. Her tank top had also been cut off, and discarded. There were blood spots all along the floor, and slight bloody scuff marks from her boots being tossed aside. Her jacket? She then remembered removing it before returning back inside that house. _Screw Sam, I’ll be going back for that. _she thought indignantly. That had to be the drugs talking.__

__She looked down at the now bloodstained sweats Sam had dressed her in. She must have pulled some stitches in her sleep. She looked around at the mess around her. Blood was on everything. If she were physically able she’d clean it up herself._ _

__She moved slowly from the bed, wheezing, and eased into the cushy leather chair. She immediately never wanted to get up. She looked over to her bag, and carelessly waved her hand. The bag slid quickly to her feet. She very slowly leaned forward, and quickly glanced through the bag even though she already knew the only clothes she had were jeans, tank tops, short sleeve tops, a few plaid, and flannel button-ups. Her typical, always on the move attire. Easy to fight in, comfortable, and hid her weapons easily, but that was about it._ _

__She groaned in frustration. These clothes were no go to heal in, she needed something loose fitting. She sat back in the chair, and rested a moment. Being injured was incredibly frustrating for her. For all of the phenomenal things she could do on an extraordinary level, she still felt incredibly human most of the time. Not that she really wanted anything else. It had taken her a very long time to come to terms with the fact that she had what some called gifts, and even longer for her to even want to use them. Now she was almost comfortable in her own skin. She knew what she could do, and knew her limits. She still sometimes lost control, which was one of many reason she stayed guarded.  
She’d use her 'gifts’ on hunts a last resort. For the most part she tried to hunt, and fight as humanly as possible. She could never fully lose control, she knew all too well what happened if she used her powers to destroy anything. She could go very dark, and coming back from that was always very hard. There were also people that would, and have, hunted her for the things that she could do. _ _

__She more than likely could have taken Dean to a point. At least her injuries would have been minimal. She just couldn't give away her identity, not yet. Now, none of that seemed to matter other than Dean would know for sure that Sam was still alive. He didn’t seem to think he was, or cared either way. He’d tattooed his goodbye on Sam with a fucking hammer.  
Sam didn’t realize that _he _just might be their angle, but how to use that? She thought for a moment as she rested, and had a brief, horrible idea, and immediately shoved the thought away. Sam might go for it, but she just couldn’t. Her momentary though was interrupted when she inhaled, and the sharp pain in her ribs had her hyperventilating slightly. When she caught her breath she relaxed a little in the chair again.___ _

____All she was good for was a fight, and some magic. Right now she felt pretty useless. She couldn’t do what she used to be able to do, and that was something that infuriated her. A demon had seen to that, and one of these days she’d get her revenge, but not before he returned what he’d taken from her.  
Sam had his angel, why not use him? That was something that was bothering her, and she’d ask Sam about that later._ _ _ _

____Her head was still slightly cloudy from the drugs, and her thinking was random, and all over the place. She kept thinking she’d missed something during her fight with Dean. Something important that she needed to talk to Sam about. She just couldn’t remember, and it was pissing her off._ _ _ _

____What she needed right now was a hot shower, and rest.  
Rest sounded like the better option, but there was no resting while she was covered in dried blood, and mud. Sam was right, she looked, and smelled gross. It wouldn't be the first time she'd fallen asleep a disgusting mess, but with a free shower so close she couldn't pass it up. _ _ _ _

____Apparently this place was huge. She should have asked where everything was before trying to limp around to find a bathroom.  
She looked over at the nightstand, and saw a phone peeking out from the trash Sam had left in his hurry, and concern to help her. She leaned forward gently, and reached out for the phone, wheezing, and groaning in pain. It was an old burner phone, her’s had been left with her other belongings at the house in Texas, but it was plugged in, and fully charged. “Good man, Winchester!” She whispered to herself._ _ _ _

____She looked at the phone, and the thought of calling someone that was not far, actually in the same building as her, sounded stupid. She couldn’t bring herself to walk back down the long hall, ask Sam embarrassing questions, and then head back down the same hall to a bathroom located somewhere in this place. Embarrassing because she never asked for help with anything, unless it was something she just couldn’t handle at all on her own. Fuck it, she needed a little help, and Sam didn’t care. She just hoped he wasn’t too drunk to answer the phone.  
She flipped the phone open, and found Sam’s number easily. Speed dial was a wonderful thing. Sam answer on the second ring. “You Ok?”_ _ _ _

____“Well, I haven’t fallen, and can’t get up, so yeah, I’m good.” She answered with faux cheer._ _ _ _

____Sam laughed at her bad joke, and asked what was up. Yep, he was definitely drunk._ _ _ _

____“Few questions. Where’s the shower, and are there towels in there, or do I have to get them?” She asked in a rush._ _ _ _

____“Slow down. The bathroom is down the left end of the hall not far from your room. Door’s on the right, it’s stocked. Soap, shampoo, conditioner in the shower. Clean towels, and washcloths on the rack.”_ _ _ _

____“Great, thanks.” She said trying to hurry off the phone._ _ _ _

____“Anything else I can help you with?” He asked sincerely._ _ _ _

____“Conditioner?” She snickered, knowing no one else in this place would use the stuff, but him._ _ _ _

____“Glad you still have a sense of humor.” He said with an annoyed sigh.  
She giggled._ _ _ _

____“So you’re good then?” Sam asked._ _ _ _

____“Um, well, I won’t be able to wear regular clothes for a while, and the clothes I’m in are disgusting like you said.”_ _ _ _

____Sam let out a chuckle. “I’ll have some comfortable clothes waiting in your room when you get out of the shower.”_ _ _ _

____“You’re the best nurse maid ever!” She laughed. She could almost hear him roll his eyes._ _ _ _

____“Uh..” Sam started. He sounded troubled, slightly embarrassed._ _ _ _

____“What’s wrong, Sam?” Diana asked a little concerned._ _ _ _

____“You don’t need help showering do you?”_ _ _ _

____Relieved, she laughed. “Naughty! So you cut my clothes off leaving my underwear, and now you want to see all the goods?” Silence on the other end of the line._ _ _ _

____“Sam?” She asked._ _ _ _

____“I, uh, um.” Sam started, stumbling over his words. He was too easy.  
She giggled at him. The medicine in her system still going strong. He must have just dosed her not long before she’d gotten up, but she wasn’t too buzzed that she couldn’t clean herself up. In fact, she probably wouldn’t be able to otherwise._ _ _ _

____“I’m fucking with you, Sam, you did what had to be done, that's it. No, I don’t need help showering, just clothes, but I might take you up on your offer some other time.”_ _ _ _

____Holding her ribs she laughed again, and hung up the phone leaving him to ponder about her last comment.  
Of course Sam was a very good looking man, she just never saw him that way. Mostly because it had always been Dean, and Sam had been way too young. She had, unbeknownst to the Winchesters, seen them them a few times over the few years, and had to admit they were both extremely attractive for hunters. Of course they hadn’t know she’d seen them, but that was another story for a sober day. Something else that she’d have to talk to Sam about. Right now she was going to take an hot shower, and try to get a little relief from her injuries if she could._ _ _ _

____“Oh, thank you drugs for this amazing shower I’m about to receive. Amen.” The thought made her giggle to herself. A whistling noise came from her chest as she laughed._ _ _ _

____She gently pushed herself up from the chair with sharp inhales, and groans, and headed out of her room taking a left down the hall. Limping slowly, trying to do so without support. She had sharp, throbbing pains in her hip, and ribs with every step, but was determined to walk on her own. She had to stop a few times to catch her breath. She was wheezing heavily as she pushed on, but she made to the bathroom without incident._ _ _ _

____She entered the bathroom, and tried to prepare herself the the dreaded moment of seeing her face, and body. She wasn’t too terribly worried about her appearance, it’d heal. It always did.  
She stood in front of the mirror not looking at her face just yet. Using the counter, she held herself up with her left hand as best she could. A short inhale, and slow exhale, and she looked up. Nothing could prepare her for the horror she saw. _ _ _ _

_______“Oh, shit! That motherfucker!” She whispered furiously to herself as her hands reflexively went up to gently touch her face._  
She dropped her hands. and stared in the mirror.  
Her pale face was a mixture of deep blues, dark purples, and hues of green. Her once cute nose was swollen, and cut, the bridge of it multiple shades of blue, and green. The deformity told her it was broken. Sam couldn’t have set that while she was unconscious? She took a slow, deep breath, held it as best she could, and popped it back in place, her breath hitching, and she groaned quietly. Her eyes immediately started watering, and her nose began gushing blood. She fumbled for a washcloth to hold over her nose as she stood taking shaky, labored breaths, waiting for the pain to ease. When the minor bleeding had ceased she continued to survey the damage. 

____Her swollen eyes had deep purple, and blue rings under them. Her right eye looked the worse. The swelling, and bruising went up to her brow bone, and her eye was bloodshot. His blow was so hard he’d caused a hematoma in her eye. It looked terrible, but her vision was OK, if you didn’t count the fact that her eyelid was so swollen she could barely see out of it. It’d heal, and her vision would be fine. It wasn’t the first time she’d been punched in the eye, and it probably wouldn’t be her last._ _ _ _

____Her cheek protruded from her face, swollen, and fractured. She pulled the bandage from her face, and studied the injury. The scar wouldn’t be as bad as she’d feared. Sam had done quite a good job sewing it up. Her pretty, full, pink lips were split here, and there, swollen, with bruises of their own.  
Her jaw was shades of blue, and purple so dark they were almost black. If he hadn’t pulled that punch it’d be broken for sure. That still confused her._ _ _ _

____Her neck had a bruised hand print that wrapped around the side from Dean half choking her. Another lost chance at killing her._ _ _ _

_______She noticed the scratches on her face, and didn't remember where she’d gotten them. The same went for tiny puncture marks in her arms, and hands. _What happened here, _she thought.___  
She stood back, and stared at her face for a moment more. She didn’t even recognize herself. Her entire face a swollen, cut up mess. She could see why Sam couldn’t look at her, now.  
Looking at her hair she could barely tell what color it was. The mud, and blood that had caked her hair had dried leaving it stiff, and unmanageable.  
_Well, we've gotten this far, might as well see the rest. _She thought sarcastically.__

_______________She waved her hand, and the cold, and hot water came on. She turned the hot water up a little more, she was cold despite the warmth radiating from her body._  
She couldn’t pull the sweater over her head, not by herself.  
With a painful snap of her fingers the blood stained sweater was on the floor. Like she’d said, Sam had left her underwear on. Looking in the mirror she could see her white bra was covered in the same thing everything else was. Blood, and dried mud. She was sure a lot of the blood that covered her torso was Dean’s. 

________She pulled the drawstring on the sweatpants, and they fell to the floor. She snapped her fingers again, and her underwear joined the rest of her clothes in a pile on the floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She stood looking at herself fully nude in the mirror. On each arm were large purple welts that would only darken with time. She a full hand print on her left arm, from when Dean must have grabbed her. She looked at her right arm, and removed the bandage, examining the suture work there. Sam was pretty damn good. Upon further inspection she noticed swelling, and redness around that wound as well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________She looked at her chest, more bruising, weird scratches, and tiny puncture marks._  
Her ribs were concerning. Her whole right side was black, and blue, and the excruciatingly painful breathing was becoming a problem. She was wheezing with every breath now.  
Her eyes trailed down to the laceration low across her belly. She gently pulled the bandage away, and looked at the wound. It had definitely been worse than she’d thought, and now it was red, and swollen around the entire wound. The sutures were painful. She touched it gently, and it was very warm. Not good.  
She looked down at her wounded hands. The knuckles of her left hand were still swollen, and bruised, but they’d be fine. She slowly unwrapped the bandage from her right hand. The stitches looked fine, but if she hadn't guessed from the throbbing, the swelling, and heat coming off the wound told her everything she needed to know. 

________Her memories of that night were so jumbled. She looked down to her thighs. The fact that an extremely deep eight inch laceration across her thigh meant to kill was just gone should have been mind blowing, but she’d seen more miraculous things. Still, that was the wound she had been sure, if any, she’d die from. Her legs were a mixture of bruises, cuts, and scrapes.  
All of the sutured lacerations were warm, and an angry red. She knew that wasn’t good, but thought a shower, cleaning. and re-bandaging after would help._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She turned to look at her back, pivoting slowly, and painfully, holding onto the counter for support. She was shocked by what she saw. Huge contusions spread across her shoulder blades, and down her back. The bruising mingled with the colors of her tattoos._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She had your average hunter’s anti-possession tattoo in black on her right shoulder blade. She had an Enochian spell, hiding her from angels down her spine in light blue. A sigil in the top- middle of her back, hiding her from demons in both black, and red. She had a few pagan tattoos thrown in the mix throughout her body. Some Celtic spells, and protection runes were also inked down her back hiding her from witches. She could hide the tattoos with a glamour like she’d used to hide her face with Dean, but could never cover the birthmark that was on her left shoulder blade._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Cuts, and scrapes peppered across her light skin. Her tattoos had tiny cuts, and scrapes all through them. They weren’t bad enough to ruin the warding, though.  
The bruises on her back, and to her ribs were more disturbing to her than the ones on her face. Those where the blows from being thrown on the ground and, kicked while down. _Fucking coward! _she thought angrily.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Then she noticed her hip. Massive bruising, and swelling. No wonder that son of bitch hurt so bad. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was fractured. Not a lot she could do about it now. Hopefully I’d just heal on its own, and not give her too many problems, or slow her down later.  
Steam from the shower started to fill the room. Good, she couldn’t stand to look at herself any longer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________How had she gotten herself into this fucking situation? How had she allowed it to go on so long. She had always sworn to herself that she’d never let any man hurt her like this ever again. What was happening to her? She could have left. Why did Dean have such a hold over her. It wasn’t like her to run from a fight, but even she knew when to admit defeat, and get the fuck out of a seriously dangerous situation. She hadn’t been in many situations to that extreme.  
She sighed, and climbed carefully into the shower._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Standing under the hot stream of water in the Winchester’s shower she found a brief moment of peace. She watched as the blood, and filth, swirled down the drain. The soap stung her cuts, and lacerations as she gently washed them, but they had to be cleaned. A lot of the blood that covered her was Dean’s, and she slowly scrubbed herself clean, then carefully once more for good measure. Though the hot water, and soap caused her sensitive wounds to burn, it felt good at the same time. She was still alive, and that was what mattered.  
She very gently washed her hair, rinsed the cheap shampoo out as best she could, and washed it again. She added a little conditioner to her hair, and laughed a little at the thought of Sam actually taking the time to care about what his beautiful, long brown hair looked liked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She closed her eyes, letting the water run down her front. She wanted to turn her face up toward the warm water, but that was not happening. Placing her hand on the wall, she rested her head on her bruised, muscular arm as she let the water run over her tender head, and down her aching back. Sighing, she wished, not for the first time, that it were that easy to wash away her sins, scrub the ugliness from her soul._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Her mind flashed to her fight with Dean in the pouring rain. She had wanted to kill him, could have so easily if only his eyes had remained black. At least that was what she was trying to tell herself. If he could even be killed. That was remained to be seen. _Someone please let me loose on him again! _She thought harshly.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________After looking at what he’d done to her she truly, in that moment, wanted to kill him. Sighing, she carefully rinsed the conditioner from her hair. She turned off the water, and tried squeezed the excess water from her hair. Not going to happen. Her hands were a wreck, and raising her arms was just too painful at the moment, and she’d done enough of that.  
She cautiously stepped out of the shower, leaving a puddle on the floor as water rolled down her lean body, and dripped from her long hair. She grabbed a towel, and dried off as gently as she could. Her stitched wounds were throbbing in unison with her many other injuries.  
_A stupid infection is the last thing I need. _The thought annoying her further. She planned to clean them very well with peroxide, or whatever she could find when she returned to her room.___

_________________________With a wave of her hand the steam departed, and the mirror cleared. She stood studying herself once more. Cocking her head, and painfully furrowing her brow, her eyes trailed down her body examining the abundance of scars.  
_Well, I have new ones, for new stories. _she thought, and shuddered.  
She lightly traced the small, thin scar on her cheek just below her right eye, and slightly above the new scar she’d recently acquired. She smiled, and laughed softly as she remembered how she’d gotten that one.___ _ _

________________*********************************************************************************************************  
Sam, Dean, and Diana had been staying at Bobby Singer’s place as usual. He was a hunter as well, and had been looking out for her for from the moment he, and John had found her. John had dropped the boys off as he hunted the evil creature of the week, or whatever it was he was doing. Bobby had to help an old hunting buddy of his, and had left fifteen year old Dean in charge. It wasn’t the first time Dean had been left to look after them, and he was never thrilled about it. He was always pissed when he was left behind.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________She, and Sam were sitting on opposite sides of the living room reading when Dean came in holding a handgun to his side.  
“Ya’ll are so fucking boring!” He complained loudly. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Looking up, Sam gave Dean a terrified look, “Dean, what are you doing? We’re not supposed to play with those.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Good thing we’re not playing, then.” He said rudely to his younger brother._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Dean, we’re only supposed to have those in an emergency.” Sam continued. “If Dad….”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“No one will find out, if you two keep your mouths shut.” Dean snapped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Dad always knows.” Sam whispered looking to Diana._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“He’s right, Dean.” Diana said, putting her book aside, and getting up from the couch. “You should probably listen to your little brother.” She started toward the kitchen._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I’m in charge, besides, I came looking for you.” Dean said pointing his finger at Diana, and she stopped to look at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“What? What’d I do now?” she asked harshly, but she recognized the look on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean had tendency to pick on Diana. Not the way he picked on Sam. With Sam it was sibling rivalry, but Dean mostly just babied him. When it came to Diana it was always a competition. Who could be the best. It almost always was Dean, but on occasion she won. They’d Spar, and she’d win some, but lose most. It wasn’t a fair match-up, but John, and Bobby both said that was the point. He had never actually hurt her, and always held back. Still, winning was winning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Sam discarded his book as well, and asked, “Dean, what are you talking about? Put the gun away!” He said standing from the couch._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Oh be quiet, I’m not going to hurt anyone! I just wanna see if she can shoot as good as Bobby, and dad say she can.” Diana looked at Dean like he was crazy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean already knew she was good. That was where she excelled in their training, and drove him crazy. She practiced often with Bobby when they boys were gone for extended periods of time, and was getting better every time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“What’s your deal?” She asked annoyed. Though when he turned his head, and she saw the nasty smudge of blue on his cheek, she instantly knew._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Bobby was constantly bragging about her, and it really bothered Dean. Maybe it was because he didn’t get much praise from his father, but Bobby was always going on about how “Those Winchester boys are something really special.” Bobby was very proud of both of them, and he always made a point to give Dean the approval he always seemed to seek, but Bobby wasn’t his father._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Diana learned everything quickly. She was picking up Latin, and a few other languages rapidly. She was damn near an athletic, so fighting came easily to her, though she wasn’t quite big enough to win against anyone but Sam, yet. She often let Sam win anyway, and was quickly lectured by John who always noticed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________When she had knocked down six beer bottles in a row without a single miss at eleven years old with a .22 rifle on her first time, Bobby couldn't stop talking about it. He taught her how to use handguns next, and she proved to be just as adequate with those as well. Once, While practicing with her he had said, “You should see Dean, that boy is something else. Has been since he was only standing up to my knee.” Of course she wasn’t going to tell Dean that. Instead, she wanted to be better._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“You’re supposed to be a badass, right? Bobby’s prodigy? Prove it.” Dean said, a smug look on his face. That was a title he coveted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I don’t know what you’re talking about! In case you forgot, you’re the favorite around here.” She yelled, putting her hands on her hips, and leaning toward Dean._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Please! I don’t kiss enough ass for that!” Dean spat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Kiss ass?” Diana yelled back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Guys, what are you fighting about? Uncle Bobby doesn’t have a favorite.” Sam said shyly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Shut up!” Diana, and Dean yelled in unison at Sam._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________So he wanted her to prove it? “What’d you have in mind?” She asked curiously. “Follow me.” Dean said as he headed out the back door to a makeshift gun range Bobby had made._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Sam looked at them anxiously, but followed them out the back door anyway. They walked over to where Bobby had paper targets set up for firearm practice.  
They stood at an old wooden bench six yards away from the targets._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Best target wins.” Dean said, handing her a Beretta .9mm he knew she could handle. She checked it. Dean handed her a box of ammo, adding, “Did you think I’d just hand you a loaded pistol?” She rolled her eyes, and began loading the magazine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean pulled a small box of .45 rounds out of his jacket pocket, and she looked over surprised. “What? Did you think I was just going to walk around with a loaded gun for no reason? I’m not an idiot.” He told her, and began to load the magazine of his weapon of choice. A Colt .45 1911 They put the earmuffs made to protect their hearing over their ears. Of course they’d trained without, but this was just a game._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Not looking at the other they both slapped the magazines into their guns, dropped the safeties, and racked the slides. The weapons were now loaded, and hot. Pointing the guns downrange, fingers on the trigger guard until ready to fire._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Dean looked back at sam, “Yell when to go.” He said loudly over his hearing protection.  
Sam placed his hands over his ears, and reluctantly yelled, “GO!” Gunshots when off rapidly as Dean, and Diana concentrated on their targets. When the firing stopped, Sam removed his hands from his ears, and breathed a sigh of relief.  
Dean, and Diana checked their guns, leaving the slides locked open, removed the empty magazines, and placed the unloaded firearms on the bench along with their hearing protection. Giving each other pompous looks they walked over to their targets. _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________They’d each had 10 rounds. Dean began examining his hits, all center mass, and a few bullseyes. He stopped when he looked over at Diana’s targets. She had started to count hers when she looked over at him, and grinned. He walked over, and began counting her’s. All of her shots had hit center mass as well, but more than five rounds were bullseyes. Meaning she had won.  
They walked back to the bench where Sam was waiting. “Guess they were right.” She said to Dean with a smirk. Sam stifled a laugh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean, never one to accept defeat said, “How are you with this?” He pulled a .12 gauge shotgun from beside the bench._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Seriously?” she asked, extremely intimidated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Dean, let it go.” Sam said the smile on his face fading._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean loaded the gun, and grinned. Turning back to his target, he shouldered the weapon, and blew a huge hole through the center of the paper with ease, destroying the evidence of his failure._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Diana was just as stubborn as he was, but wasn’t sure about this. She’d only shot that gun once, and had to tuck it under arm instead of shouldering it because Bobby was afraid it would knock her over. It almost had. She was a short, skinny 13 year old._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Not wanting to be shown up by Dean, she took the gun, aimed at her target with the shotgun tucked under her arm. “Really?” Dean teased. “You can't hold it like a man.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Her face turned red, and she hefted the gun to her shoulder. She wasn’t nearly strong enough yet,nor did she have the reach to shoulder, and shoot a .12 gauge. The only reason Bobby had taught her was to make sure she could defend herself if she had to be left alone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________She stood, struggling to keep the shotgun against her shoulder, and aim at the same time. She looked at her target, took a deep breath, and just as she squeezed the trigger the stock slid from her shoulder, the recoil causing the butt of the gun to hit her in the face knocking her from her feet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“You didn’t even hit the target!” Dean laughed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Diana!” Sam yelled. Dean stopped laughing, and looked over at Diana. Her face was bleeding, and she lay dazed on the ground. The shotgun lay beside her. Sam, and Dean were at her side at an instance. “Diana?” Dean asked shaking her slightly as blood poured from her cheek. She shrugged him off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Embarrassed, she shook off the haze, and pain, looked up at him, and said “Fuck you!” as she crawled to her feet. Blood dripped onto her shirt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Let me look at it!” Dean said with urgency._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Don’t you think you’ve done enough? You win! Happy?” Diana said angrily, stomping back to the house holding her face. Sam gave Dean a disappointed look that he ignored. He ran toward the house, Sam trailing behind him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Diana walked into the bathroom, and examined her swelling face. She grabbed a rag, and held it to her split cheek. Along with the cut, she was going to have one hell of bruise.  
“Shit!” She whispered as she dab at the cut that continued to bleed. They were going to be in so much trouble._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean appeared in the doorway. “Go away!” Diana yelled at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Just let me see how bad it is.” He said holding up a first aid kit. Her face was throbbing, and she didn’t feel like arguing with him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________She walked to her room, and sat on the bed still holding the rag firmly to her bleeding cheek. She sat, angry with herself for allowing Dean to convince her to do something stupid, and even more angry that Dean, knowing she couldn’t do it, had bullied her into it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean walked into her room. “What part of go away don’t you understand.” Diana said bitterly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I’m not going away until you let me look at it.” He said with a charming smile. Behind that charm was regret, and shame. She forgave him instantly, knowing that he wouldn’t have actually tried to harm her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Fine, I don’t think it’s that bad anyway.” She said as Dean sat next to her on her bed. He grabbed her hand gently, and pulled the rag away from her face, in doing so it began to bleed again,  
“Shit! I’m so sorry!” He said with pleading eyes sure that she’d hate him now. He gently, but firmly held the rag to her cheek to make sure the bleeding would stop. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________He checked the wound again. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, but would need a few stitches. There was no way she was going to hospital over a cut that needed maybe three, or four sutures, plus they didn’t have any adults around to talk to anyone. No way was anyone going to call Bobby, let alone John._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Dean rummaged through the first aid kid, and grabbed a few alcohol prep pads, ripped them open, and dabbed at the wound. She winced a little, but didn’t say anything.  
“Sorry.” Dean said tossing the alcohol swabs in her trash can. He pulled out some butterfly bandages, and placed three of them over the wound, gently pulling the skin together. She hardly flinched. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________He looked at her again with shame in his eyes. “I really am sorry. That was such a stupid thing to do. I didn’t think you’d get hurt, though, I swear!” His brilliant green eyes pleading with her for forgiveness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“It’s ok Dean, I’m fine.” She assured him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Not understanding that he’d been forgiven he added, “You know you’re a fucking badass with a gun, right?” He said looking her into her dark brown eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Yeah, I know.” She said laughing even though it hurt her fresh wound. Dean looked down, and began packing up the first aid kit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I’m sorry I was jealous.” he mumbled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“You have nothing to be jealous of. You’re not the one everyone is constantly watching, waiting to see how badly you might fuck up.” She said sadly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Touche.” He said mumbled, continuing to look down. “But I know how you feel.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________She gently grabbed his chin, and tilted his head up. Dean knew she was looking at the fresh bruise on his own face. Everyone knew who that was courtesy of. She knew what was happening to Dean was wrong, but at thirteen years old, what could she do if the adults around her weren’t doing anything about it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Her looking at him like that just caused him more shame, so she smiled at him, and said gently, “Your family hunts, and kills monsters, actual monsters, so you’re heroes.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________Embarrassed by her praise Dean cracked a smile, and said, “You’ve helped a little, but you’re a freak, so I win!” He said with a wink. Of course he was referring to her using what little powers she could control to help on the “easy” hunts John had taken her, and Dean on._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Touche.” Diana said laughing, knowing that he wasn’t being hateful._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________They continued looking at each other, giggling. They understood each other, and that was all it took to light the spark between them.  
Uncomfortable, Dean looked over to the doorway where Sam stood.  
Dean hadn’t been unaware of his presence the entire time he doctored Diana’s face. _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Is she OK?” Sam asked holding an ice pack._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“I’m fine, Sammy.” Diana assured him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Sam over there is just a freak of nature.” Dean said, and they all cracked up laughing. Sam threw the ice pack at Dean hitting him in the face causing Diana, and Dean to laugh harder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Touche.” Sam sighed rolling his eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Well, I guess we’ll all just be freaks together!” Diana giggled, causing Dean to chuckle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________“Touche!” They all said in unison, and fell into fits of laughter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________**************************************************************************************************************_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________She shook her head gently, and wrapped herself in a clean towel. She didn’t bother looking in the mirror again. She could barely dry herself efficiently, and exited the small bathroom, and made her way carefully down the cold hall dripping water on the floor all the way to her room. Once inside she found clean clothes folded on top of fresh sheets.  
_Damn, Sam, you’re really something. I might feel a little guilty when I get around to having a long overdue chat with you about what really happened. _She thought, and smiled weakly, but bitterly to herself.  
She stood on shaky legs. Walking around, and standing in the shower had been too much for her, but she had to do it. Now she really needed to get dressed. She was cold despite the warmth radiating from her body. ___ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She knew that her wounds were in bad shape despite the good job Sam had done doctoring her up. She had laid in filthy water with open wounds, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that that would cause infection. What really concerned her was the broken ribs. She could have other internal injuries causing an infection. She was lightheaded, and burning up. She was getting concerned, but her stupid pride wouldn’t let her admit that she thought that her injuries were getting pretty serious. She’d never really had this problem._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________She stood shivering in her towel trying to decide what to do about this inconvenient issue. She barely had the energy to dress.  
Just as she was about to begin the slow process of clothing herself she heard a whoosh behind her, and knew immediately who it was.  
“What the fuck do you want?” She said with malevolence._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I just came to see how you were doing,” He replied._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I’m just great. Kind of busy.” She answered not looking at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Sam said I should check on you later, so I waited. It’s later now, and I…” Cas mumbled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Yeah, yeah. You know, standing there while I’m almost naked is kind of rude, and just slightly inappropriate.” She said to him, holding the towel around her as best she could._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I, uh. My apologies. The door wasn’t closed completely so I..” Castiel fumbled with his words._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Sure, come on in! I see your manners are just awesome.” She said facetiously, grabbing her underwear, sitting on the bed, and pulling them slowly, and carefully on under the towel._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I can come back.” Cas said awkwardly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Nah, you’ve seen me half naked, why not see the other half.”  
Cas looked at her quizzically as she reached for the sweatpants Sam had left her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“So you’re really just going to stare?” She so badly wanted to roll her eyes, but didn’t dare.  
Cas turned his back, but remained in the room. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“You know, humans do this thing called knocking, and then they wait to be invited in.” She said as she reached for her bra, dreading putting it on she tossed it aside. As she sat on the edge of the bed she very gently, and slowly pulled on the sweats, standing again to pull them all the way up to her hips, and tie the strings as best she could.. She still didn’t have a shirt on, and at this point the pain coursing through her body caused her not to really care about much._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“From what Sam has told me, you haven’t told him everything.” He said ignoring her complaints._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Oh really, and what makes you say that.” She asked harshly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“He didn’t say anything about your encounter with Dean.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“He knows all about that, angel.” She said rudely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“He knows about your fight, but not about the other issue. The one that could bring this whole thing down.” He said in a serious tone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She stopped, and stared at his back. “And what issue is that, angel!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________He turned to face her, and immediately looked away. She was standing bare chested with her arms crossed over her breast._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Oh please, like you’ve never seen a half naked woman before.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I was trying not to be rude.” He said looking at the wall._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“If I thought you were even remotely interested I may be bothered, but probably not.”  
He looked at her confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Go on, finish what you were saying.” She said, her arms still firmly crossed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“You’re in love with Dean, aren’t you.” He said matter of factly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She laughed. “What makes you say that?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I saw you two about to make love.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Hold on. What? Were you there?” She asked a look of horror on her face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________He looked into her dark brown eyes trying to express concern, but she could tell he was very confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“No, I wasn’t there. I just know.” It was her turn to look puzzled. She cocked her head, and stared into piercing blue eyes. Fitting for an angel. Even if they were the vessel’s, and not his own. He had chosen well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“You know, how?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I saw everything when I healed you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Everything?” She asked with anger, and horror in her voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Well, Almost everything. I saw everything that happened that night. You’re feelings for Dean. I saw glimpses of you, and Sam, and Dean as children. I even saw John, and a little of Bobby, though those could have been things I already knew.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________For once she was speechless. She had so many secrets, and here stood a being who could potentially know her entire life. She had never felt more naked, and hugged her arms around herself tighter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Get out!” She yelled._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I..” Cas started._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“I said get out!” She screamed, shoving him, and stumbling in the process. She let out a scream as ribs burned, and her stomach, and hip trobbed. Cas tried to help her, but was stopped by Sam who grabbed him by the arm._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“What’s going on? Cas, what are you doing?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Sam, I didn’t mean any harm.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Dude, she’s getting dressed, you can’t be in here.” Sam said pulling him towards the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“She said she didn’t mind.” Castiel argued to Sam pulling away from him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________Diana stood awkwardly trying to cover herself, and hold her ribs at the same time, panting, trying to catch her breath. Her face still held a look of anger, and contempt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She turned her back to them, and Sam stopped and stared. Her back was almost completely covered in tattoos, not just tattoos, but scars as well, like her torso._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Jesus, Diana! What happened? I saw most of your scars when I was tending to your wounds, and dressing you, but I didn’t see all of them.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________Cas looked at her back, and said, “Interesting markings.” as he tried to study them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Life, Sam. Life, happened.” she replied bitterly. Sam walked up to her, and ran a long finger over a tattooed sigil. Diana shivered uncomfortably, and turned slowly to face them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“So, What exactly are they?” He asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“They’re warding.” Cas said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Point for the angel.” Diana muttered, and couldn’t help but roll her eyes painful as it was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Why do you have so many? What are you afraid of?” Sam asked, concerned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________“Who said I was afraid? Now, do you two mind leaving so I can actually get dressed? I’m not here to put on a show.” She said angrily pointing toward the door, using her other arm to cover her chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________Without a word, and before Cas could really study her “markings,” they left the room closing the door. Diana grabbed the flannel button up Sam had left her, and carefully pulled it on only buttoning a few buttons.  
She sat in the chair, and sighed. Sam may be a great hunter, but if he truly knew what was out there why would he ask why she’d need the protection? _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She figured he had an anti-possession tattoo like his brother’s, but doubted he had any others. Most of her tattoos were for personal reasons, but a few she couldn’t believe that the Winchesters hadn’t even considered, like the sigil hiding her from demons for instance. That one just made sense that any hunter would have it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She closed her eyes, resting for a moment. She was exhausted, but had so much work to do. She was still in a lot of pain, and slid her bag back over to her. Slowly rummaging inside she found a full bottle of Norco, a strong painkiller, popped the top off, and poured 3 into her hand. She found her flask of whiskey she kept in her bag, and chased the painkillers with the booze.  
Relief would be her’s soon. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Once her pain was under control she’d be back to helping Sam continue his mission of helping Dean, even if she was worried he couldn’t be saved. She had to at least try.  
For now, though, she thought she’d get some much needed rest, and carefully moved to the bed. It took all of her effort to get into bed as comfortably as she could. Her head was swimming. The pills, and booze were working. Not that she couldn’t have asked Sam for medication, but she was doing just fine on her own, and that was the way she liked it. Castiel, and Sam had made her very uncomfortable. She hated being vulnerable, and would never feel the need to explain herself.  
She’d eventually have to explain herself to Sam, but when, and how much?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She sighed heavily, and with a blink she shut off the light. She lay still, and tried closed her eyes. What Castiel had said to her really bothered her, and medicated, or not she was having trouble drifting off, and opened her eyes, and stared into the darkness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________Maybe being here was a bad idea. Sam had never needed her help before, he, and the angel could do this on their own. No, when she’d approached Sam, and offered her help he had looked relieved. They had needed someone with her abilities, someone who could get inside. Neither Sam, nor Castiel could cure Dean, they needed all the help they could get. For the first time in a very long time she didn’t know where to start. She was so frustrated, but the painkillers were kicking in, and her thoughts finally began to slow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She started to relax, and She closed her eyes again, imagining an open field with glorious oak trees, and flowers of every color scattered throughout one side. She could smell the lavender that was growing in abundance in an adjacent field. Yes, this was her happy place. When she could actually slow her mind, this is where she visited when she closed her eyes when she was alone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________She finally found a little peace, and drifted off to the scent of lavender._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	4. Something's Not Right Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odd things start happening to Diana, stranger than usual for her. Sam is hiding something.

Diana woke several hours later, and tried to stretch forgetting her injuries, and where she was. Searing pain brought her back to the present. Though, where that was she wasn’t entirely sure. She coughed, and thought her side would explode. She lay in bed shivering from cold even though she was burning up.  
Her ribs, and chest ached terribly. She felt like she was suffocating, and tried to breath slowly, wheezing on every inhale, and exhale. She rubbed her face, wincing at the pain from swelling, stitches, and fractures in her face. When she pulled her hand away it was wet. She realized she was sweating heavily, even though she was cold. She was so thirsty, but first she had to figure out where she was.

 

She rose slowly, gasping from her throbbing ribs, and back. She tossed aside her blanket, carefully swung her legs off the side of the bed. Pain instantly shot down her leg from her injured hip, and she let out a tiny yelp. She sat for a moment looking around the dark room hoping if she sat sill enough the pain would get better. Not a chance.   
She honestly had no idea where she was, and not one to panic easily, she was on the verge of doing so.

She felt like shit. It wasn’t just pain, she was sick. Very sick. She didn’t know if she had the strength to stand from the bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been ill.   
She stood on wobbly legs, and made her way, stumbling painfully in the dark, fumbling for the light switch. She found it, and flipped it on. Blinking against the harsh light she looked around. Her head was spinning, adding to the confusion. The only thing she could think was _Help me! _Which was not something she’d ask in her right mind. She wasn’t. Had someone brought her here? Had she messed up on a hunt? Had those that were looking for her found her?  
Despite the pain her only thought was she had to get out of there. Her room was so bare that in her delirium she actually mistook it for some kind of cell.   
She recognized her bag on the floor in front of a leather chair, and gingerly made her way over to it. She stopped, and leaned against the chair trying to breath without pain. If someone was holding her hostage why would they have left her with her belongings? She was shaking all over, and nauseous.   
_What’s going on? Where am I? Why are my things here? _She yelled in slight panic in her mind. The last time she’d woken up this confused with no memory of how she’d gotten there, things had not gone well for her, or the people that had put her there.____

____She tottered a little on her feet as she tried to put the pieces together, but she was running an incredible fever, and nothing made any sense. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand as she leaned against the chair. Everything hurt, though she couldn’t remember why. Her vision was blurred, and sweat ran down her face in large, hot beads. She suddenly lurched forward and vomited on the floor. That would have been enough to make anyone in her situation pass out, but she held onto the chair for dear life, wiping her mouth, spitting, and breathing slowly.  
She reached up, and gently pushed her hair back from her face.   
Her hair that had dried in her sleep was damp again. She looked down at her clothes, and didn’t recognize them. Large gray sweatpants, and a mens plaid button up shirt only half buttoned. _What the hell? _She looked herself over, and couldn’t remember how she’d gotten her injuries. If it were a start to some kind of torture, it wasn't a very good one. The wounds were days old. She had an odd sense of deja vu.___ _ _ _

______She didn’t think she could stand much longer, and making her way around the chair to sit seemed too much of a challenge. She was holding on as best she could with damaged hands, an aching back, and shoulder blades, a hip and ribs that throbbed with every movement. She covered her mouth as she coughed again. This time when she pulled it back there was blood on it. She wiped her lips. Her mouth tasted like copper, she spit blood on the floor again. _Fuck it. _she thought angrily. If this was where she was going to die, so be it. It seemed as good a place as any at this point.___ _ _ _ _ _

________She didn’t think she could stand much longer. Her breathing was labored, and she wheeze on inhale, and blew out slow, quiet, shaky breaths. Every breath was excruciating, and she tried to slow it further. Nothing helped. Breathing was torment. Vertigo was taking over, and she knew she was going to fall any second for sure._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Suddenly Castiel appeared out of nowhere. Not knowing who he was, and trying to defend herself as best she could, she swung at him with everything she had left, ripping the stitches in her abdomen, and setting her ribs ablaze. She let out a scream in pain, and fainted.  
***********  
When she came around she was still fully clothed, and submerged in a bathtub full of ice with Castiel at her side. She sat up quickly, gasping from the cold, trying to breathe, and fight Castiel who just held her gently in the bath for a few more moments. She screamed in pain again, but the cold helped mask some of it. For a few minutes she still didn’t know where she was, or what was happening.  
Her eyes were wide with panic. A few of the bulbs in the bathroom light fixture blew. She tried to fight against Castiel’s restraint, but wasn’t strong enough. She heard a cracking noise. The mirror was dangerously close to shattering. “L, let m, me go!” she sputtered as she shivered uncontrollably.   
“Not until you calm down.” He answered.   
“I s-swear to, t-to, G-God..”  
“Try to relax, and I’ll remove you from the tub. Your fever is down anyway, and you shouldn’t be in there any longer than you have to.” Castiel said in a plain, emotionless voice that was all business. _Fever? _____ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As she took a short breath she looked around trying to remember what had happened. Her blurry vision was clearing some. She shivered. He grabbed a towel, and carefully lifted her from the cold bath sitting her on the covered toilet seat. She continued to shiver, which only made the pain worse._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Staring into his face she asked, “What happened?” The question came out in a weak, hoarse voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You were confused, and tried to hit me causing your stitches to tear, you fainted, most likely from your fever, though I’m sure pain played a major factor. You were bleeding, had no color to your face, and were diaphoretic. I was very afraid you were going to die, and I’ve been forbidden to heal you, so I’ve just been watching over you. Your fever is still high, but better. I read about the ice bath trick for extremely high fevers.” He said rushing his answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Whoa, slow down. That’s a lot of info. Where’s Sam? Nevermind, forget that. Can you help me get out of here? I’d like to get back to my room, please.” She trembling from cold._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Castiel picked her up gently, and effortlessly as if she weighed nothing She gently, but painfully put her arms around his neck, and rested her heavy head against his shoulder. He was so warm, but it didn’t last long. In a blink they were in her room, and Cas was placing her in the same cushy chair that remained by her bed. She was still shivering, and having difficulty breathing. This was too much. She was so over being injured this badly. She just couldn’t take it anymore._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She suddenly remembered that she need to help Sam, and Dean, but not like this. She was no good to anyone like this. She gently put her head back, and sat there panting, and trembling. She hated that anyone saw her like this, weak, and pathetic. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t walk. She was useless, and she was tired of it. Right now she all she really wanted was to put on dry clothes, and she couldn’t even do that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Castiel looked at her hollowed eyes, and ghost pale skin, watching her gasping for breath.  
“What can I do?” He asked concerned. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Diana took another ragged breath, and looked him directly in the eyes.  
“You can heal me.” She said mumbled through gasping breaths._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Are you sure?” Cas asked making sure that she meant it, and it wasn’t the fever talking despite her ice bath he hoped had worked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yes. Just leave my old scars, if you can.” She whispered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I can.” Castiel said reaching a delicate hand toward her head.  
Diana closed her eyes, and felt Castiel touch her forehead. A brief, odd, warm sensation came over her, and that was it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She opened her eyes. Suddenly she could see perfectly clearly. She took a long deep breath, and let it out. No pain. She took several more deep breaths. Her ribs no longer burned, and throbbed with every breath. Her back, and shoulders no longer caused agony._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She touched her face, no swelling, or stitches in her face. She could still feel the small scar below her right eye. She stood, no pain in her hip. She lifted her wet shirt. There were no bruises, or cuts, or on her chest. No laceration on her abdomen. Her arms had no marks, and the stitched up cut was gone. She made a fists with her hands. Nothing, not a single scratch. She was fully healed, and her old scars from before her fight with Dean remained just as she’d asked. She sighed with relief, and smiled a little._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“If I were a hugger, I’d hug you, but would you settle for a hand shake?” She asked not hiding the slight smile on her face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Of course,” He answered.  
She looked at Castiel gratefully, who extended his hand, and she took it.   
Shaking his hand she said, “Thank you, Cas, for everything.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Cas gave her an awkward smile. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you didn’t die.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You’re weird. “ She said shaking her head sighing a laugh.  
“This doesn’t make us friends… yet.” She said giving him a look that said she still couldn’t trust him, but that she was thankful._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Castiel nodded that he understood. “You should probably get cleaned up, and change clothes. Sam should be home soon, and he’ll be glad to see you doing well.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She’d been in so much distress she didn’t even think to ask where Sam was this entire time.  
“Sam’s gone? Where’d he go?” She asked him, stretching her muscles. Man, did it feel good to stretch. She leaned from side to side, put her hand behind her back, and leaned back far enough for it to pop a little. It felt fantastic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I’m not sure where he went, he just said he had something to take care of, and asked me to stay, and watch over you. I was trying not to hover, but I heard you ask for help.” He told her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah, thanks again.” She said vaguely remembering that she hadn’t ask for help out loud. Remembering that the last time he’d healed her he gained some of her memories, what other connection did he have with her? She briefly wondered if he had that with the Winchesters, ignoring the thought for now she stooped to gather her own clean clothes, and a hair brush from her bag. Just being able to bend was a relief._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Castiel left the room, and she headed back toward the bathroom where she showered quickly, and it was glorious. She put on her underwear, and bra, pulled on a faded pair of blue jeans with holes in the knees, and pulled on a black tank top. Comfortable at last. At least physically.  
She looked at the cracked mirror, snapped her fingers, and it was whole again. She’d have to replace the light bulbs, but she’d worry about that later.   
She found a hair dryer in the bottom cabinet, and dried her hair quickly, not taking the time make sure it was fully dry. She looked into the mirror again. She wasn’t a vain person, but knew that she was attractive. She’d never tell anyone, but having her face smashed in was a minor blow to her ego. She studied her face for a minute. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Hey, beautiful.” She whispered to her reflection, taking a moment to appreciate what she saw in the mirror. She traced soft fingers over now smooth, fair skin. Despite the tiny old scar from the past on her cheek, her face was pretty again. The slight pink in her cheeks was a healthy glow instead of a deadly fever. Her deep brown eyes were clear, but still had a dullness to them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She ran her now undamaged hands through her long auburn hair. Soft, and clean it shone brightly, showing off the bright rusty reds that mixed with dark browns. She’d always been proud of her brownish-red hair. Her father had been a blonde, and her mother had the most beautiful, shiny, dark brown hair with tiny hints of red in the sunlight. Diana’s was more of a very dark red, and the sun set it on fire._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Her father had had bright blue eyes, her mother’s a deep brown, both of them had pale skin, too. The memories of their faces were fading as she aged. She didn’t have any pictures of them, and often worried she’d forget what they looked like._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She brushed her hair, and actually let out another weak smile. It felt so good to finally not be in pain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Now she needed to get her ass back to the library, and try to find a way to save Dean.  
Tossing her shiny hair over her shoulder she walked barefoot down the long hall toward the library thinking Sam should be back by now. The clock on the wall said 1:00 AM. She looked around the large room, and he was nowhere in site._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Glancing around to make sure no one was around, she snapped her fingers, and was suddenly in front of the closed door to Sam’s room. She knocked, waited, and no one answered. She opened the door. The light was off, and she flipped it on. He was still gone. _Where would Sam go at one O’clock in the morning? _She turned the light off, and closed the door.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She snapped her fingers again, and was back in the library. She took a seat at one of the tables, and began sifting through papers, and flipping through books._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________After a while she looked at the clock again, it was 3:00AM, and Sam still was not home. She wonder if she should be worried, but this was Sam Winchester, and she was sure he was fine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Her body was stiff from sitting in one the hardwood chairs that surrounded the tables in the large room. She stood, and twisted left to right cracking her back. She cracked her neck, and rolled her head on her shoulders. She was extremely bored, and thirsty._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She found her way to the kitchen, and started a pot of coffee. She wasn’t close to tired, yet. She’d slept enough, but she still had a lot of work ahead of her, and caffeine wouldn’t hurt. After making a cup of coffee she returned to library, and stared at the mess on the tables. Something wasn’t right here. She’d been through all of the papers, and literature on the table, and had found nothing of use so far. She didn’t understand why Sam was even still bothering to look at it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________This bunker held the secrets to almost everything supernatural, right? Why were they wasting time looking at bullshit they knew was useless? Sam wasn’t stupid. He had to know this was all a waste of time. His late night outing had to be for a reason, and it wasn’t a booty call that much she was sure of. Maybe he’d gotten some kind of lead? Though, if he had wouldn’t he have at least left her a message, or told Cas?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She wasn’t sure where exactly to look, but she knew there had to be much, much more th ey were not checking. She needed books on real magic, but knew those, if they were smart, were locked up. She wouldn’t know where to start to find them, or if she did they’d be well warded most likely. Not that she probably couldn’t get through a spell._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She could just go look for them, and test the warding, but right now she, and Sam were on the “trust system.” She may be holding back, but she wasn’t lying, and so far as she knew Sam wasn’t lying to her. Maybe Sam didn’t trust her as much as she thought he did, and she didn’t blame him. She’d been gone for a long time, and hadn't exactly been upfront as to her whereabouts. Though, to her credit she’d been a little injured to do much, but it wasn’t like she trusted him fully either. Things were just too different. They’d been through too much, and trust was hard to come by no matter if you grew up together, or not. They hadn’t seen each other in years, and this was an awkward situation for both of them.  
*********************************  
She was incredibly bored. She thought about grabbing Sam’s laptop off the table, and scouring news articles for a case. Anything to cure her boredom. She reluctantly decided against it. She already had a job to do no matter how boring it was at the moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She finished her coffee, and grabbed the decanter left on the table, poured her cup half full of bourbon, and replaced it. She stood up taking her cup with her, and began browsing through the selves in the room sipping her drink. After about thirty minutes flipping through a few books, and not finding anything useful she had worst urge to help herself around the bunker in search of anything useful. She resisted. _Gods, I probably require adult supervision at all times. _She thought with a smirk. Cas hadn’t been around since he’d healed her. He was probably out doing God’s work, or whatever it was he did when he wasn’t hanging around.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She walked back to the table, topped off her cup, and headed down the hallway where the bedrooms were. She found herself in front of Dean’s room. She knew it was his because it felt like him, the real him, even through the door, even though he wasn’t there. She took a sip from her coffee cup, and opened the door. She stepped inside, and took a look around. It was dark save for a lamp on the left side of the room. At first glance it didn’t seem very special. Kind of small with concrete from floor to ceiling like the rest of this place.  
Upon further inspection she could tell it was a little bigger than her tiny room. She sighed in annoyance, and walked around eyeing Dean’s belongings. She didn’t think he’d care. It’s not like anyone was around to stop her, and she was pretty sure Dean could care less at the moment. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He had full sized bed in the middle of the room, the head of it shoved up against the concrete wall. There was a small wooden nightstand on the right of the bed with a small lamp, and a few books on top. It contained a single drawer, and an open shelf underneath with unstacked books almost falling out. On the far right brick, and cement wall was a wooden dresser with another old lamp, and some trash scattered about. She turned on the lamp. There was a chair on one side, and a laundry basket still containing Dean’s dirty clothes on the other._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The far left wall had a stand up lamp. That’s what had been left on. It didn't need to be on, but she guessed Sam saw it as welcoming for when the real Dean returned. There was a small old wood table, and chair near the tall lamp where Dean had left his laptop._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The furniture was all very old. She loved it, but what really caught her attention were the weapons he’d hung on his walls, and placed on the long shelf that hung just over the head of his bed. _Very nice, Dean! Love the decor. _She thought with pride as she continued to scope out his gun, and knife collection. She recognized all of his weapons with the exception of a few. She’d have to ask him about them some day, hopefully.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________She sat on the on the soft bed, and finished her drink. Looking around she spotted a half empty bottle of Jim Beam on the old desk.  
“Don’t mind if I do,” She said, and got up to pour herself another drink. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Looking around the room made her nostalgic, and she didn’t have time for it. She sipped her drink, and tried to think of anything to help cure Dean, and at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to right now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________She stared off into space as she thought. She could hear her, and Dean laughing at something stupid, see them driving down the highway as very young teenagers, and she smile. She closed her eyes, and tried to hold onto the memories.  
Then suddenly everything was covered in blood. She could see the entire bunker painted red. The hallways smeared in crimson. The library torn apart, with burgundy puddles on the floor. There were no bodies. She could hear Dean’s deep laugh, and it chilled her to the bone. She tried to escape this thought, or whatever it was. She couldn’t move. She started shaking, and dropped her cup. It broke loudly on the hard floor. Still she didn’t move. Lost in a nightmare she couldn’t escape, she just stared. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________She didn’t hear Sam come in. “What are you doing in here?” He asked in an impolite tone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Diana jumped, and the images were gone, but the cold, ominous feeling remained.  
Trying to shake it off she said with a fake smile, “Hey, Sam. Where ya been?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Out. So, what are you doing in here?” He asked again standing with his shoulders slumped. He was wearing blue jeans, an undershirt, and his old work boots. He’d forgotten to clean up a blood spot on his boot when he was doing whatever it was he was off doing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________No long sleeved shirt? That was a first. His hair was a mess, but he’d had a shower recently. She could smell the soap on him.  
The vibes he was giving off were ones of frustration, anger, guilt, but he was also feeling sick about something, ashamed. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Not wanting to upset him while he was in this state, she said, “I was just trying to get feel for Dean, maybe see if there was anything we could use to help him.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I’ve already been all through here, there’s nothing we can use.” He said with cold eyes, and an expressionless face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“You OK?” She asked_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I’m fine, Just tired. I’m gonna get some rest. You look good by the way. I see you finally gave in and let Cas help you. Smart move. You should probably get some rest. We’ve gotta get back to it tomorrow. Please clean up the mess before you leave.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Diana watched him stumble a little as he left the room, and sat and wondered what that was all about. No doubt he was tired, it was eight o’clock in the morning. He’d been drinking, she could smell it from across the room, but that didn’t explain the coldness, or his lack of caring that she’d been healed. Maybe he just didn’t want anyone in his brother’s room?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________She got up, scooped up the ceramic pieces with her hands and threw them in the trash. Thankfully it had broken into large pieces. She grabbed an old dirty towel and wiped up the spilled booze, and tossed it back into the dirty clothes basket. With one last look around, and a shiver she headed back to her tiny room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Once inside her room she shut the door, and locked it. She didn’t really need the lock. She could take care of herself, and if she couldn’t the lock wouldn’t matter anyway. It was a false sense of security._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Something weird was going on. She didn’t feel any malevolence, but that didn’t mean that nothing evil was present. Hell, she was might be evil, well, half evil. Most of the time you could barely even call her that now. She was missing part of her soul, but no knew about that yet. Well, maybe Castiel.  
Her hand went up to her chest where her necklace would rest. It was a habit from when she was a child. She almost panicked when she realized she wasn’t wearing it. _My Necklace! _She had been here this entire time without wearing it? That’s how she knew things had been really bad. She never, ever took it off.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She dug in her bag. She pulled out the old wire wrapped Clear quartz crystal necklace dangling on a silver chain out of a soft felt bag. It was a large round cut stone adorned in amethyst. She’d worn since she was a child. As far as she knew she’d always had it. Bobby had given it to her. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t say where it came from it, but either way it always felt like it belonged to her, and she hated taking it off. She always felt uncomfortable without it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She had to remove it before going after Dean because that was a dead give away seeing as how she’d been wearing it ever since they were all children. It was as much a part of her as breathing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She was angry at herself for forgetting it, regardless how injured, and weak she had been. Any good witch knew crystals had healing properties among other things, and clear quartz, and amethyst were some of the best for healing. The necklace also contained power that Diana hadn’t quite discovered yet. Yes, witch. She’d discovered that at a young age, and it hadn’t been pleasant. One of the many “gifts” from John she wasn’t ready to talk about yet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She was tired, and changed into a pair of clean sleep shorts, and a long white T-shirt. She climbed into bed, stretched her arms over her head, and yawned. She lay back on her pillow, turned to her side, and curled up into a ball holding her crystal necklace firmly in her grasp as she drifted off in a pain free sleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________***********************************************  
Suddenly out of nowhere Dean’s fists were coming at her. She tried to fight him off as best she could, but wasn’t strong enough. She got a glimpse of a very large knife, and tried to block his lunges at her. “You’re going to fail. You’ll die just like the rest of them, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Dean said to her as his eyes turned black, and he plunged the knife deep into her stomach while she had been distracted by his words. She screamed as she felt the steel dig deep into her belly, tearing her insides apart. She felt pain like she’d never experienced. Dean twisted, and pulled the knife out of her, wiping it on her shirt. She gasped, and fell to her knees.  
“Good luck healing from that. He said with a black eyed laugh.  
************************************************  
“Diana! Diana! Wake up!” Sam yelled. Suddenly he was thrown into the hard wall. No one else was in the room, and she was still in bed, sitting up holding her stomach. Sam had startled her awake, putting her on the defense. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Sam sat on the floor dazed, but mostly surprised._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Oh, God. Are you OK?” Diana said when she realized what she had done. She had reacted without thinking._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I’m fine.” He said getting to his feet, but leaning on the wall. He’d hit hard, and she knew he was hurt even if he wasn't going to say so.  
“You were screaming in your sleep. Scared me to death! Are you OK?” he asked not moving from his spot on the wall. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________________Great, he’s scared of me. _She thought sadly.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I’m fine, just a nightmare.” She lied._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Anything I can do?” Sam asked politely. By the looks of it he’d sobered up, and was genuinely concerned about her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“No, I’ll be OK.” She answered. Still not trusting him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“One of these days you’re going to have to stop lying to me.” He said trying to hide the pained look on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Well I guess that makes two of us.” She grumbled. “I’m awake, looks like you are, too. Want some coffee?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Sure.” Sam said sensing something wasn’t right, but didn’t want to push it just yet. “I’ll let you get dressed, and meet you in the kitchen.” He said leaving the door open on his way out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Diana sat in bed and let out a long breath. That wasn’t just any nightmare. She felt Dean’s hate, his darkness. Most of all she felt the knife slide into her stomach, the pain. That was when she began screaming, and Sam had woken her from the awful nightmare. _It was just a dream. _She tried to tell herself as she got out of bed. She couldn't help but check her stomach again. Nothing there but old scars.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She didn’t bother getting dressed. She headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and pull up her hair. She washed her face, and then headed to the kitchen in her shorts, and t-shirt, barefoot. She could smell breakfast cooking, and fresh coffee. “Is he really making breakfast??” She said softly to herself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Wow, Sam, you didn’t have to do that.” She said smiling at him. She noticed him limping slightly. "You're sure you're OK?" She asked concerned that she'd actually hurt him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________"It's nothing I can't walk off." He answered, and returned to the meal he had been making._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Have a seat.” he said gesturing to the small table in the room. She took a seat, and he made her a plate of egg whites, and bacon and brought them to her.  
She laughed. “Sam, the bacon takes away from the healthy portion of our breakfast.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“A little bacon won’t hurt.” he said returning to the stove, to make himself a plate. “Besides, I haven’t really seen you eat anything.”  
As he sat across from her at the table, he added, “I also couldn’t remember what you liked. Same with the coffee. Pot’s full by the way, and fresh.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Diana chuckled, “It’s fine Sam, everything’s perfect. You’ll never catch me complaining about bacon, ever!” She grabbed a piece of bacon, eating it as she got up from the table, and quickly made a cup of coffee and returned to her breakfast._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________They ate in comfortable silence enjoying their small meal. He wanted to be nice now, she could play nice… for now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________When they had finished she cleared the table, and placed the dishes in the sink neatly. “I’ll get to these a little later, promise.” She said and winked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Sam just looked at her in surprise. “Thanks.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Thanks for the food, I was starving.” She grabbed another cup of coffee._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Sam stood, and headed toward the library, and she followed. She took a seat at one table, and Sam at another. Each covered in the same bullshit they’d been sifting through since she arrived._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She was still apprehensive about Sam due to last night. Did he even remember? What about the bloodstains on his now clean boots? Had she imagine it?  
She had seen something while sitting in Dean’s room, and now she was having nightmares that felt very real. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________She felt every part of her dream of Dean.. The warmth of his breath as he spat horrible things at her, her own body sweating, and tired from fighting. She could feel his rage, his want, and need to kill. Then the agony of a large knife she didn’t recognize being shoved into her stomach. She’d had vivid dreams, and some that had often come true, but nothing like this. Not where she was feeling the things going on, or reading the people in her dream.  
Her good memories turning into a horror show as she sat in Dean's room. That wasn’t a dream. She wasn’t sure what that was, or what it meant. It all was starting to scare her, and she didn’t scare easily.  
She didn’t want to think about it anymore. She blinked a few times, and came back to reality._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________They looked through a few more books, and files. Diana was incredibly bored. She’d already read most of what was laid out on the table in front of them before Sam had needed her help, and had gone over it again before Sam had come home last night, but she couldn’t tell Sam that. She sighed, and tossed another book she'd barely glanced at onto the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Sam could see her agitation. “You OK?” he asked_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I’m bored, and can’t concentrate. Wanna do something else?” She suggested. She really wanted to get her mind off of everything that had happened last night, and the fact that they were wasting their time going through all of this bullshit over, and over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“You and my brother, all action, no research,” Sam laughed at how much Dean, and Diana had been alike when they were kids. Seemed like some things never changed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I still read, Sam!” She said laughing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Have you walked around the place yet?” he asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Other than the War Room, Kitchen, a few bathrooms, my cell, your room, your brother’s room….. Not at all.” She answered honestly. “Gotta admit, I’m pretty curious. How big is this place?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Sam gave her a big smug smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“What?” She asked_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I bet we have few things you haven’t seen.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh, like more books?” Diana said bitingly with a fake hopeful expression._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“That, and so much more.” Sam said grinning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Sam walked her through the bunker, showing her a few weapons, and artifacts, the copious amounts of books, and files that weren’t just in the library. He showed her the old lab, and computer room, at which she had laughed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Next was the infirmary. “Why didn’t I wake up in here?” She asked  
.   
“You would have, but were moved to a room. I figured you wouldn’t freak out as bad if you woke up in a bedroom.” He answered. She nodded in gratitude, and they continued the tour. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________They stopped outside of a door that had extra warding on it. “What’s in here?” Diana asked Sam, wondering why it had the extra protection. It was strong magic, but she thought she could get through it easily enough if she just had to._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“More books, and scrolls. It’s the archive.” He said quickly. She could tell he didn’t want to go in there, but she had to see what was inside._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Oh really?” She said in a teasing tone. “Open it up.” She told him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Sam pulled the key for that room out, and let her inside. She looked around in awe, and a bit of boredom. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, or fascinated by all of the information, It looked like a bunch of shelves with old books, just like the rest she’d seen.  
Wondering what was so special about this particular room she grabbed a book off of one of the shelves. This book contained magic that she hadn’t seen in years. She carefully looked around, glancing through a few more books._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________Are they out of their fucking minds! I know a lot of people that would do terrible things to get into this room. Hell, to get into this building! _She thought appalled that they even lived in the same building with magic like this. Magic none of them understood one bit.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________As soon as the thought entered her mind she could feel a pull. Something calling out to her. That was never a good sign, and she ignored it as best she could, and continued looking through the items on the shelves._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________The archive room had books, files, and scrolls, ancient artifacts, weapons forged to kill certain creatures. All containing magic the Winchesters, in her opinion, had no business possessing.  
Her almost good mood faded, and she started to get uneasy. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Sam, having all of this is extremely dangerous.” She told him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________He thought he saw her eyes go dark, but couldn’t be sure in the poor lighting. Diana didn’t like being in this room, or maybe she liked it too much. She wished she’d had let Sam skip it. Old, dark feelings were creeping up inside of her. She wanted to leave, but couldn’t pull herself away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Don’t worry, we only use what we absolutely have to.” He assured her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“It’s not just that, there are people that will literally kill you to have what’s in here.” She said not convinced._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Diana, you’re in one of the safest places in the world. It’s completely Warded against any evil ever created. Plus, they’d have to find it first, and the entire place has been cloaked against evil.” he reassured her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Except angels.” She said muttered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Cas has a key.” Sam laughed with a wink._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“A key? I thought there was only one.” She she said narrowing her eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Magic.” Sam said matter-of-factly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Magic, huh?” She said rudely, and left it alone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________Diana noticed the shelves moved, and took it upon herself to shove them out of the way. Bright lights came on in the back of the room. In the center a chair was bolted to the floor. Surrounding the chair was a large Devil’s Trap. The brick walls were bare. There were rings bolted to the concrete floor, and ceiling to secure chains. There was a small metal table and chair across from the trap.  
Her uneasiness turned into queasiness. Sam saw her face go dark._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“It’s a dungeon.” she whispered to herself. She shook off terrifying old memories, and smirked at Sam saying. “Kinky.” with a wink._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Yeah, not so much. This is where I tried to save Dean.” He said in quiet voice. That’s why he didn’t want to come in here. She thought, mentally kicking herself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“We use it to hold demons, and such for information.” He added quickly straying from the topic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“So you torture them.” She said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“No, we don’t torture them exactly, we just get information, and usually perform an exorcism.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“And it’s useless against Dean, got it!” She said. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something in this room that was calling to her. Something she wanted. She needed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“Hmm..” She said as she quietly, and quickly left the room, wanting to be as far away from it as possible._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________“We have some fun stuff, too.” Sam said closing up the Archive room.  
 _Oh, a dungeon isn’t fun enough for you? _She wondered humorously.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Sam walked her to the indoor gun range. “No fucking way!” She said excitedly, her eyes brightening again. “This has been here the entire time, and you said nothing?” she said playfully shoving Sam._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“You were a little indisposed.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Well, I’m not anymore. Where’s the arsenal?” she asked almost jumping up and down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“We’ll get back to that.” he said laughing as he led to another room not far from the gun range. Inside was a gym. It had new, modern exercise equipment. Weights, a treadmill, punching bags, you name it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“This place is really great, Sam!” Diana said with a big smile. _And I really shouldn’t be here. _She thought darkly to herself.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Sam smiled proudly, and started heading back to library._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“I think I’ll go change, and do those dishes now.” She said to Sam. Anything to postpone returning to that damn library.  
Sam shrugged, and continued toward the library. Diana had a feeling he wasn’t even going to be reading anymore of those books. She’d caught him staring off into space more than once. She wondered what he could be thinking, but doubted he tell her if she asked.   
They parted ways. She went to her room, looked through what little clothing she’d brought, dressed, and went to the kitchen. As she started washing dishes she thought, _Something’s up with Sam, and I’m going to find out what it is eventually. _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	5. The Memory Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana looks to Castiel for answers, and isn't pleased by what she finds out.

The next morning Diana got up early, and raided Deans clothes for sweatpants that fit a tiny bit better than the ones Sam had loaned her, at least lengthwise, and a hoodie. She tried to hurry, and be as discreet as possible so as not to upset Sam. She rushed down to the gym, and did an easy four mile run on the treadmill, followed by forty-five minutes on the punching bag. She could have done more, she wanted to. Damn did it feel good. She had a lot of pent up emotions, and nothing good ever came from that. People thought a woman PMSing was scary, try a pissed off witch who still had one foot in the fire. What she really wanted was a hunt, but this seemed like the only action she’d be getting for a while. She hadn’t gotten much sleep. She had been too busy trying to figure out what was going on with Sam. Was he up to something, or was he losing it? She didn’t know Sam well enough to know his habits, but she knew that drinking, weight loss, and lack of sleep was definitely not normal behavior, unless she counted herself, which she didn’t. Nothing about her was normal.

She still couldn’t stop thinking about Castiel. How much did know about her? He seemed to be keeping his distance. He had told her the things he knew about her just from healing her her leg, who knew what he knew from healing almost her entire body. The thought slightly disturbed her. She slugged the bag one more time as hard as she could for good measure, and the bag swung away from her hard. She walked away before it could swing back in her direction. Pulling off the cheap, old boxing gloves she grabbed her towel, and wiped her face. 

Cas had to know more, and was keeping it to himself this time. More than likely it was because she had freaked out so badly when he’d confronted her about what he’d seen before. If he knew more, especially the terrible things she’d done, that was probably not a good thing.

With that thought in mind she went to the bathroom, peeled off her sweaty clothes, and rushed through the shower. Wrapped in a towel, carrying her dirty clothes she rushed to her room, and dressed quickly. She ran a brush through her wet hair, and pulled it up into a messy bun. She went looking for Sam, when she couldn’t find him she started to look for Castiel. Deciding that she didn’t feel like looking for him she just yelled from the library, “Cas! You here?” 

“Yes?” He said from behind her. 

Diana turned around quickly. “What do you know, that actually worked. Good to know, thought I was going to have to pray or something, which I won’t.” She said with a raised eyebrow waiting for a response.

“Can help you with something?” He asked slightly annoyed at her testing him.

“You don’t happen to know where Sam is do you? It’s six-thirty in the morning.” She asked, concerned that he’d been gone all night again. Wasn’t she supposed to be helping him, not sitting in some windowless, concrete, and steel hole in the ground where she didn’t have access to the information she really needed. It was really starting to irritate her. This was not what she had come here for. If it weren’t for Sam, and Dean needing her help, and Castiel she would have blown the case off, and left weeks ago, and now Castiel might be the answer to who, or what she was.

“Sorry, I don’t know where he is, or when he’ll be back.” Castiel lied horribly.

“Yeah, real convincing, Cas.” She said rolling her eyes. She didn't believe a word of that reply. Of course he’d be loyal to Sam, but she wasn’t worried about that right now, though she should have been.

“Ok, fine whatever. I wanted to talk to you anyway, and I didn’t want to do it with Sam around. Just tell me how much time we have.”

Cas gave her a disapproving look, and said, “Are you asking me to keep secrets from Sam?”  
“Is that a problem?” She said with her hand on her hip getting frustrated. 

Castiel stood, and looked at her silently for a moment. “What do you want to talk about?” Cas ask with a look that said he already knew.

Diana walked over to a table, and pulled out two chairs positioning them so that they were facing each other, and gestured for him to have a seat. She sat down, and he sat in front of her.

“Let’s just get down to it, what do you know about me?” She said in a serious tone.

He didn't even hesitate, “Well, I know that you’re a witch, but your abilities are more than just witchcraft. I know you made a deal, and gave up your soul. I know bad things happened to you, and you’re very angry.  
How does Sam not know that you’re a witch? I mean it’s fairly obvious, not just abilities, but that glamour you pulled wasn’t a trick, as you called it, that’s witchcraft.” He droned on.

“Ok, stop! Sam doesn’t need to know everything right now, he’s not telling me everything either. That’s irrelevant. Do you know why all of these things happened, or are you just getting glimpses? Does this happen when you heal the Winchesters, or anyone else? Also, I did get my soul back, well most of it. When I get my hands on the demon that still holds the rest of it...” She stopped. She was getting upset, and put her trembling hands on her thighs and leaned on them to steady the tremors.

“No, I don’t know everything. Just what I’ve told you, and no, this has never happened with anyone other than you. It’s very strange. Also, your powers seem to have grown since I healed your leg.” 

“Wait, what? They’re growing? That’s not possible, I haven’t done anything, but almost die. That in itself is weird because I’ve only been injured that badly once, I never get sick for that matter. I’ve cracked ribs before, but they’ve healed in a few days, cuts usually in a day. Not to brag, but it’s also a little hard to get close enough to hurt me, I usually put things down before they get a chance, or keep kicking their ass before they can. Dean just got lucky. That, and he’s fucking superhuman, and impossible to kill.” She rambled.  
She stopped talking when she saw the look oh his face when she mentioned trying to kill Dean. _Maybe this angel actually has feelings? _She wondered. She’d never met one that did. She didn’t understand Castiel at all, and it really irked her.__

__“You don’t think that healing like that is unusual?” Cas asked suddenly._ _

__“Of course I know it’s not normal, but that’s just the way it’s always been.” She said trying to be patient._ _

__“If I tell you something, you have to keep it between us just for now.” She said very seriously._ _

__“I promise.” Cas said looking her in the eyes._ _

__“I’ve been having these dreams. They’re so real. I feel every bit of it, physical pain, emotions. I can even read people. Cas, they’re horrible dreams. I’m also having them while I’m awake. I think something bad is coming, but I don’t know what they mean. This has never happened before, and I don’t understand it.” She said trying not to let on that she was scared, but Cas . knew._ _

__Castiel thought for a moment, and said, “I could try to read your thoughts, but it’s risky. Humans tend to not respond well to having their minds meddled with.”_ _

__Diana laughed, “No, I guess they wouldn’t, but you, and I both know that I’m not human. I’ve know that for a while, the big question is what am? I’m not just a pure born witch, it’s something else, I can feel it. I’ve always felt it. The darkness in me has always been there just under the surface even before I went off the deep end. There are others that can feel it too, and have tried to figure out a way to use it. Use me.”_ _

__“That’s why all of the warding marks on your back.” Cas said thoughtfully._ _

__“You’re a quick one.” Diana said rolling her eyes. Cas gave her a warning glance. It wasn’t to intimidate, but she was pushing his buttons, and she could tell if she kept up the snark he’d leave.  
“Sorry, I’m just frustrated.”_ _

__“That’s understandable.” He said “Would you like me to try, I’ll do my very best not to hurt you, but I can’t promise it won’t be painful.” Castiel said with a hint of doubt. His doubt should have been enough for her to say no, but she needed answers._ _

__“Fuck it, you may as well know what you’re working with. Just please try to not hold what you see against me too much. That’s not me, not anymore.”_ _

__“I can tell you’re a good person.” Cas said genuinely.  
Diana just laughed at that. _You really have no idea. _____

____She surprised herself at how much she was trusting Castiel. She didn’t trust anyone, certainly not him, but she needed answers, and he seemed like a really good start seeing as how she hadn't had much luck anywhere else. She didn’t think Castiel would hurt her anymore than he’d hurt Sam, or Dean, so why not take the chance?_ _ _ _

____“Alright, let’s do this.” Diana said taking a deep breath, and blowing it out quickly._ _ _ _

______Cas gently placed his hands on the sides of her head.  
“Wait, wait, wait!” Diana said holding up her hands. Castiel quickly stopped.  
“You’ve done this before?” She asked.  
“Many times.”  
“Ok, fuck it, go ahead.” She said shaking her hands out, and placing them back on her thighs. She inhaled, and exhaled quickly. 

____ _ _

____Castiel gave her a sincere look, and put his hands carefully back on her head. “Relax, and try not to fight me.” Diana nodded, and his eyes began to glow a brilliant fluorescent blue. A burning sensation started in the back of her head. She shut her eyes against the light that shone from all around him. The burning turned into a sharp pain that penetrated her brain, and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter, and her hands gripped her thighs._ _ _ _

____Castiel saw her as a child with her family, playing in a yard in a normal suburban neighborhood, happy and carefree with two loving parents. Something was off about it, but he couldn’t place it right away. Then suddenly a house on fire, and a little girl being wrapped in a large brown leather jacket, and carried away. Years of learning, and training with Bobby, and the Winchesters. First love, and heartbreak. He gasped in horror as years, of terror, and pain filled his mind. Abuse, and torture from humans, demons, witches, angels. Deals being made with revenge in mind. Years of hunting, and killing trying to undo her mistakes, and appalling deeds. A friend who brought her back from the brink, and then a life lived utterly alone. Hundreds of horrendous moments flooded his mind. He felt every every one of them._ _ _ _

____Diana groaned through her teeth as the pain in her head made its way to the back of her eyes, she could see everything he was seeing. The rush of emotions, and memories she’d tried to keep at bay rushed to the surface._ _ _ _

____Instinctively she reached up, and placed her hands over his. Suddenly Diana was seeing things that didn’t make sense, and then she realized she was seeing Castiel’s memories. Cas didn’t catch it in time, and watched in horror as her eyes began to glow a bright violet, and burst of light, and energy soared out of her as she screamed in pain, and fury.  
Before he could remove his hands Castiel was thrown, with his chair, into a wall. The chair fragmented behind him. He watched from the floor not knowing what to do. _ _ _ _

____Her scream continued as the tables, and chairs lifted off the ground, and exploded as they slammed back onto the floor._ _ _ _

____“Diana, STOP!” Cas yelled._ _ _ _

____Objects went flying from every direction, missing Diana. It was as if she were protecting herself. Her chair didn’t even move.  
Then, as suddenly as it began, it got eerily quiet as everything went abruptly still. Diana fell from her chair unconscious. Castiel crawled over to her amongst the debris of wood, books, and weapons that had flown from the shelves. He shook her slightly, “Diana?” No response. He shook her again, “Diana!” He yelled. Just as he was about to try to heal her she opened her eyes which had returned to their deep brown with tiny flecks of gold._ _ _ _

______“Stop shouting at me.” She groaned holding her head in her hands. Castiel placed a hand on her shoulder, and she pulled away from him.  
“Are you hurt?” He asked in a terrified tone.  
She didn’t immediately answer, and he grabbed her shoulder, and asked again, “Diana, are you hurt?”  
“No, just a headache from hell, and don’t touch me!” She said as she slowly climbed to her feet. She looked around, taking in the destruction. 

____“Oh, Shit! I did that?” She said swaying slightly.  
Cas tried to steady her, and she pulled away again. _ _ _ _

____She closed her eyes briefly, and took a calming breath. She snapped her fingers, and the tables and chairs were whole again, not a single splinter of wood on the floor. She turned to the book shelves, waved her hand, and the books flew back onto the shelves. She waved her hands a few more times, and finished cleaning up the mess she’d made. Cas stared at her in awe, and reservation. He didn’t know what to make of her. A witch who’d been a demon, and come back to hunt monsters? She was an anomaly._ _ _ _

____Diana took a seat at the table shoving the books and papers she’d replaced out of her way, folded her arms on the table and laid her head on them._ _ _ _

____“Are you sure you’re OK?” Cas tried again._ _ _ _

______“I think so, physically, but you and I, not so much.” She mumbled through her arms.  
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” Castiel said about to leave her in peace.  
“You think I’m upset with you because you’ve hurt me?” She said raising her head and looking at him. “Other than a headache, do I look hurt to you? I told you, I’m not that easy to hurt.”  
“Yes, I remember. I saw. Have I done something to upset you?” Cas asked troubled. 

____“Cas, I just really need to process what I just saw. I’ll get back to you.” She said gruffly, getting up from table, and leaving the room._ _ _ _

____She wanted to lay down. Her head hurt like hell, and she was exhausted. She walked past her room, and went into Dean’s. She curled up in his bed, pulling his blankets over her head. She waved the door closed, and blinked the lamp off. She fell asleep almost immediately._ _ _ _

____She slept fitfully having horrible dreams of legions of angels fighting terrible wars, of Sam, and Dean dying over, and over again. She saw Castiel betraying everyone she had loved, and saving them selflessly countless times. She slept for hours, it was her body’s way of shutting down, and processing the information it had received, and it had received way too much._ _ _ _

____Castiel checked on her several times. Sam came in, and checked on her when he got home. He asked Cas what was wrong with her, and he just told him that she had a migraine, and wanted to be left to sleep. Which wasn’t a complete lie. When Sam went to bed himself, Castiel stayed with her, and watched over as she slept.  
**************************************************************************_ _ _ _

______When Diana woke the next morning she lay in Dean's bed, pulled his covers up, and buried her face into them. They still smelled like him she guessed. It was a manly smell with hints of cologne, and Irish Spring soap. Her headache was almost gone, but the memories remained.  
The memories she’d tried to block out, and the new ones that confused, and angered her.  
When she was finally able, she crawled out of the bed, and cleaned up in the bathroom, and changed into a pair of her blue jeans, and one of Deans black undershirts. 

____She found Castiel sitting quietly in the library reading a book. She glared at him. “Where’s Sam?”_ _ _ _

____Cas looked up in surprise and set his book down. “I don’t…”_ _ _ _

____“If you fucking lie to me one more time I swear to God I will kick your ass!” She growled._ _ _ _

____“He’s asleep at a hotel, he’ll be back soon.” Castiel said looking ashamed at betraying Sam._ _ _ _

____“Don’t give me that look! I don’t give a shit what Sam tells you to do. Now, I have some things I need to say, then you’re going to go get him, and let him sleep off the rest of his hangover in his own bed, then I’ll have a few words with _him. _”___ _ _ _

______He started to say something, and Diana held up her hand stopping him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“First things first. I forgive you for all of the awful shit you did to my family, just like they have, and just like I’d want you to forgive me for the awful shit I’ve done when I wasn’t fully myself. I don’t, however, forgive you for lying to me about Sam. Where he’s been going, and what he’s been up to. You’re even helping him! What the fuck is wrong with you? He could get himself killed!” She said just barely raising her voice trying to keep calm._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That’s why I’m there, Diana. So he doesn’t get himself killed. He’d do it either way, I might as well be there to help him if he needs it.” He answered_ _ _ _ _ _

______“BULLSHIT!” She yelled. Her eyes flashed a deep purple for a second before returning to their natural brown. It happened so quickly Cas wasn’t even sure if he’d seen it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“He _has _needed you! More than once! Isn’t that enough for you to put a stop to it? I saw him die, more than once, and felt how you felt. How can you allow this?” She said blinking back tears of hurt, and rage.___ _ _ _ _ _

________“I won’t let anything happen to him, I promise.” He said calmly wich only pissed her off further._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Right, you pop in at the last min, and save his ass. No, it’s not going to work like that anymore!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Diana, He’s being taken care of. Nothing will happen to him.” Cas said standing from his chair.  
Diana took a step back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Look, a long time ago those boys were all I had. They were my best, and only friends in the entire world. I’d have done anything for them, _Anything! _You’re supposed to be to be Sam’s friend. His family, right? Why can’t you see that he’s hurting, and hurting himself is the only way he knows how to cope with what’s going on around him. He thinks he’s in control when he’s anything but. He thinks he’s on this mission to save his brother, and he’s going to tear through anyone, and anything to bring his brother back, but he also wants himself back. I know, I’ve been on the same mission, except I only cared about myself.” She said wiping away the few angry tears that managed to spill over.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What was you mission?” Cas asked plainly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What? What are you talking about, are you not listening to me?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I am, what was your mission? I’ve seen everything about you, but I don’t understand what your mission was. What was the reason you did all of the things you’ve done? Why did you really give up your soul if it wasn’t because of your coven, brainwashing, or more power?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Diana sighed heavily. Of course he wouldn’t understand. She knew that if she told him now that he wouldn’t trust her, and she wouldn’t blame him. It was only the worst thing she’d ever done in her life. The only thing she could never been redeemed for._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You can say it, I’m not going to judge you.” Cas said gently._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Diana debated with herself for a moment before shamefully saying, “To kill John Winchester, and not feel bad about it.” She whispered wiping away more tears.  
“But guess who was in hell while I was still serving time? Playing is probably more accurate. I was going to have a lot of fun with him, but I wasn’t allowed anywhere near him. They had something special planned for him.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You’re saying the only person I’ve ever heard of getting tossed out of hell because you had too much power, couldn’t get to John? Maybe you felt bad about it.” Cas asked not believing what she was saying._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You’ve seen it! I didn’t _feel _anything, Castiel. Not single thing. I didn’t even really hate him. I just watched a few sessions like you’d watch a TV show, and I laughed as he begged me to help him. I had more than enough power to stop it, and I just laughed. I was actually curious what their plans were, so I did nothing. That, to me, is probably the worst thing I’ve ever done.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“And yet you still hate John?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yes, but not enough for that. Not enough to watch him go through some of the most fucked up shit I’ve ever seen in my life!” She said wiping away more tears._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“John Winchester was a complicated man, but you witnessed it, he served his time, too.” Cas said gently._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Diana scoffed, “You know what he did, and you, an angel, can still defend him? Wow, I knew things were fucked up, but I had no idea just how bad.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Castiel started to say something, but she was done with this conversation.  
“I’m telling you now, if you don’t put a stop to Sam’s bullshit I sure as shit will, and you will not like what happens if it comes to that, and neither will he.” Diana said in a voice so calm it disturbed Castiel. She gave him a serious, cold stare, held it for a minute, and left the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	6. Dirty Work: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana, knowing what Sam has been up to, heads out to clean up his mess, and have a little fun while she's at it

Diana finally felt calm enough to come out of her room around late that night ready to talk to Cas again. She’d mostly been holed up in Dean’s room since their last conversation. She had come out to hit the gym for a while, and returned to her room where she’d spent the last several hours searching, and mapping out any demonic activity she could find, and was now thirsty, and starving. She still wasn’t ready to leave Dean’s room that had basically become hers since she’d appropriated it after Cas nearly fried her brain, but she had a lot work to do, and questions that needed answers. She was a little worried about what she’d said about John, and what, if anything, Cas had said to Sam.

She went to the kitchen, and started a pot coffee. She still had a dull ache in the back of her head, but was otherwise fully recovered. While she waited for the coffee to brew she sat at the small table thinking about what Castiel had said about her powers growing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed, but she hadn’t exactly tested it either. She really wanted to talk to Cas in depth about the dreams, visions, or whatever they were. She had meant to, but after what had happened, and the things she now knew, she was too angry to talk to him about anything until the problem with Sam was solved. She didn’t have to talk to him about what he knew, what he’d seen. She’d seen, and felt all of it along with him. She didn’t get all of Cas’ memories, but she’d seen enough to know that he was soldier who, to her, was playing house pet, and it didn’t make sense. When she’d met Cas he seemed almost childlike, was he pretending, or holding back? She knew that he’d dragged Dean out of hell, why couldn’t he stop Dean? Being the Winchester’s friend, or “family” as Sam had called him just didn’t sit well with her knowing that he was letting Sam harm himself. She ran her hand over her belly, fingers lightly riding over the bumps of scars under her shirt. She didn’t hate Castiel, she just didn’t trust him. She had her reasons, but Cas had never given her a personal reason, until now. Now she was going to have that long talk she’d wanted to have with him yesterday, but hadn’t trusted herself with the rage that blazed just under her skin in his presence after finding out just what great friend he had been.

The coffee had finished brewing, the smell was heavenly, and brought her back to the present.  
She got up from the table poured herself a cup, and wandered around the bunker looking for both Sam, and Cas. When they were nowhere to be found she stopped walking, and yelled, “Cas!” No answer. “Castiel, you around?” she yelled again. When he didn’t appear she thought for a moment, then knew exactly where they were. _Thanks for the memories, Cas. _She thought with bitter annoyance.__

__According to Cas’ memories Sam was in a small town on the outskirts of Kansas doing something incredibly stupid. She knew exactly what Sam was doing. After searching her memories, and knowing for certain where he was she thought about just leaving. Tired of the hot, and cold bullshit from Sam. Sure, she wasn’t exactly pleasant herself most of the time, but at least she was trying for Sam, he could at least reciprocate. If she was supposed to just stay there, and read the same books over, and over, and not do anything at all while Sam was out being a dumbass why should she care? She felt like she was in prison waiting until it was time for her to be useful gain, only this prison had more magic than she’d seen in a long time. She’d spent years trying to stay away from it. Honestly, she’d much rather stay there and find, whatever had been calling to her from the locked, and warded room that contained some of the world's most powerful spells, and weapons. She wanted it like a junkie needed their next fix, which should have told her this was not the place for her. That nothing good could come from any of it._ _

__“UGH! Why am I even here!” She yelled throwing her coffee cup across the room. The sound of it shattering against the wall, and showering to the floor was explosive in the silent penitentiary. She looked at the mess, and breathed a heavy sigh. Having a bit of a conscience sucked. She couldn’t let Sam get sucked into a black hole like she had. What he was doing was dangerous, and incredibly stupid. She wished she could say that she didn’t have room to talk, but Sam was still only human. Incredibly intelligent, and skilled, but human nonetheless, and if he kept doing what he was doing maybe one of these times Cas would be too late to save him._ _

__“I’m gonna kick the shit out of him!” She grumbled as she returned to her room. She changed into a pair a blue jeans, sports bra, and a navy blue tank.  
She found her KA BAR plain edged knife in a Kydex sheath in her bag, and slipped it onto her belt so that it hung horizontally in the middle of her back as she pulled the belt through the loops of her jeans. Digging through her bag she found her Emerson Super Roadhouse, and put it in her front pocket, clip hanging on the outside. She grabbed her Sig P238 1911 style Nightmare Micro Compact .380 she’d left on the nightstand. Her favorite backup, and only gun now that her weapons were in some decrepit old house in Texas. She’d taken it from a fight not unlike what she headed for now. She pulled on socks, her old black jump boots, and laced them quickly. She grabbed her old ankle holster with bloodstains on it from her bag, strapped it to her right leg, and secured her gun. She clipped a Schrade SCHF21 One-Piece Drop Forged Boot Knife with a 4.5 inch blade to the inside of her left boot. _ _

__She rolled the legs of her jeans down, stood up, and stretched. She hated not having a full sized gun, but for now this would do. She knew exactly what she was walking into. She probably wouldn't even need the gun, but better to be prepared than not. Walking into a place like where she was heading alone would terrify anyone, but she’d been there, fought that.  
She grabbed an old, but clean black and white flannel button up, and pulled it on leaving it untucked to hide the knives on her waist. She pulled a thick wad of cash from her bag, and stuffed it into her front pocket. She pulled the hair tie from her wrist, and pulled her long hair up in a quick, messy bun, and headed to Dean’s room, and borrowed a jacket._ _

__Furious, she found her way to the garage. Sam had skipped this part of the tour. She took a moment to appreciate the classic cars, and motorcycles. _Holy shit! _She thought as she looked around admiring the classic cars, and motorcycles that were all mint, but what caught her eye was the black 1972 Gran Torino Cobra Fastback. No doubt Sam, had “borrowed” that. It wasn’t Dean’s style, and It didn't fit with the other cars in the vast garage. Without Dean, and the Impala Sam had to drive something, and it wasn’t going to be one the beautiful, and rare classics. She walked up to it, lifted the cover over the bed, and appreciated what few weapons Sam had left in it. _Good job, Sam. _She thought. Sam hadn’t driven which meant Cas had taken him. That just pissed her off even more. _I guess if everyone’s just popping in, may as well do the same. _She thought closing her eyes in a huff picturing where Sam was from the memories Cas had blazed into brain._______ _

________She opened her eyes as she appeared in front of the entrance to the parking lot of The Dust Bowl just off the road. She stood on the blacktop looking at the old building. In the chilling temperatures her breath in front of her was white vapor, but she wasn’t cold. The January air was freezing, but she ran hot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Nice going, Sam. You would pick one of the few hick towns I’d gotten into a little trouble in. Not much of an element of surprise other than, ‘Surprise, I’m back, and not welcome here.’ “ She muttered to herself as her boots noisily crunched gravel as she walked through the nearly vacant parking lot, and up to the roadhouse. She was ready for a fight, and God help whoever got in her way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The Dust Bowl was an old roadhouse that had been there since the fifties. It had had several owners over the years, but the name had remained the same. It had two old non-working gas pumps out front, and a long porch that stretched across the front of the old building with a few empty benches. The outside had an old west vibe, but was a little more modern inside._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Didn't my last shitty night start at some crappy hicktown bar? _she thought, angry that she had to be here at all. The windows of the entrance had been covered on the inside with old flyers for concerts, business ads, and old news papers so that you couldn’t see inside the building. She smiled darkly at Addison’s reflection as she approached. It almost wasn't fair for those she planned to surprise, Sam being the least of them. Yeah, more than a few in this crowd would know her, and she hadn’t made any friends.They only knew her as Addison, If they knew who she really was the fight would be over before it started, and where was the fun in that? Looking at her reflection she watched the windows vibrate from the bass of the jukebox.  
She could feel that deep pull of wickedness inside, and man, did it feel good to be out kicking ass again. She already knew she was going to have to fight to get in close with the group out back. From what she could hear the fights had started, and were going strong. No one else could hear them from that far back in the field behind the building. Extraordinary hearing had its perks, and downfalls. This was a perk. She smirked once more, threw her shoulders back, pulled the door open, and walked into a haze of smoke, and the smell of cheap beer, booze, stale peanuts, and sulfur.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She headed for the bar pool tables were to her left, and an array of tables and chairs, and dart boards to her right. She could feel eyes on her, and ignored them, they’d get theirs. She hopped on an old stool, and waited on the bartender. She listened to the patrons laughing loudly, and the sound of music in the background. She drummed the beat of Ted Nugent’s “Stranglehold” on the counter as she waited. Fitting since she hadn’t had a really good fight since Dean, and she was more than ready to release some pent up anger._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The bartender, an ageing white male, with graying hair was stooped over wiping the counter near her with a white cloth not paying attention to her. She knew him instantly, and couldn’t believe he was still there, let alone alive. Not many demons kept humans around for long._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Double Jack, neat.” She said patiently. He huffed, turned around grabbed a glass and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He placed the glass in front of her, and poured the drink. He looked up at her, and paused. “Thanks, Chris.” She said with a with a southern drawl, and a wink, and downed the shot. The accent wasn’t fake, she’d just add a little more twang when she was on the job._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Don’t think you’re supposed to be in here.” He said glancing over his shoulder toward the back door where a big burly guy was standing watch. Diana could have care less about Chris, or the guard, she wasn’t here for them, yet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What? I can’t have drink in this lovely establishment anymore?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Not from what I hear. Why are you really here?” He said looking her in the eyes with a cold dark stare. She gave him one of her own devilish stares, and he looked away. She could feel the the chills that ran across his skin, and how creeped out, and nervous she made him. _You think that’s creepy? _She thought, and smiled feeling Chris getting more uncomfortable. He looked at the door again, and the gigantic man at the back door started to walk to the bar. “Call off your dog, or you won’t have what passes for a bar for much longer.” She said without looking at the gargantuan man headed her way. Chris didn’t say anything, and she could still hear hefty boot steps on old wood floors. “Try me.” She said flashing him a grin with hints of purple that glowed in her darkening brown eyes. Chris nervously waved him off, and the man returned to the door he was supposed to guarding. It was just a glint, and Chris couldn’t be sure of what he saw in the dim lighting, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He knew who frequented the bar, and was good at keeping his mouth shut about it.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“What do you want?” Chris said desperation in his eyes. He knew he wasn’t supposed to let her in, and what would happen if he didn't’ follow orders. Diana felt every combination of emotions he was throwing at her, and she could care less. As much as she despised demons, she possibly disliked the humans who worked for them even more. To her they were just as guilty, and evil._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“‘I wanna talk to Randy.” she said as she waved her empty glass at Chris who rolled his eyes, and set her up with another drink._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Not happening.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Ha! Let’s try that again.” She grinned, flashing a thick roll of bills with a hundred wrapped around the outside, and quickly stuffed it back in her pocket._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Ain’t up to me, and last I heard Randy don’t want want nothin’ to do with you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“How ‘bout you get on your little radio, and ask him? I’ll wait.” Diana said. She’d already heard the exchange between Randy, and the giant at the door on his own radio. Randy didn’t like it, but he didn’t say no. Chris looked at the goon again who nodded at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Password.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“What’s the first rule of fight club?” She asked with a sarcastic smile. Chris was not amused.  
“And I’ll have another.” She said tapping the nail of her index finger on the empty glass in front of her. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She downed the bitter shot quickly without any expression. The men out back weren’t fooling around, and she’d almost had her ass handed to her if not for her kicking into survival mode, which had gotten her band from the bar entirely. The fight should have been easy, but she couldn’t just use her powers anywhere especially when multiple demons were involved. If any of them saw her, gotten away, and spread the word her identity as Addison was ruined, and it would be open season on her. Not that she couldn’t just change her face, but it’s how she got around in the hunting circle. Sometimes she was so tempted. Open season could be fun, but it wouldn’t just be the things she hunted, it’d be hunters too, and she’d never kill an innocent unless it came down to her, or them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________She’d seriously injured her opponent, who’d been human, which wasn’t exactly against the rules, but to be fair in a fit of rage he had tried to kill her, so she defended herself. The man she was fighting was pissed because he was losing, so he pulled a blade he’d strapped to his leg under his jeans. Diana didn’t catch it in time, and he stabbed her in the side of the abdomen. Furious, she’d pulled the knife out of her body, and shoved the blade into his eye, pulled it out, and drug it across his face, splitting the skin on the left side of his face from his eye to to his jaw as an extra reminder in case he survived. Fight over. No one wanted to fight her after that. Her opponent said that she’d pulled the blade, and he’d stabbed her in _self defense _. He’d gotten what he deserved, and she didn’t care what they said about her. It made them weary of her, which gave her a slight upper hand. They still saw her as a fragile woman anyway. Either way she had everyone fooled, or at least most of them. She had figured that because it had been a few years maybe no one would remember. She had been wrong in that assumption. Oh well. She had money, a lot of it, and she knew Randy wouldn’t turn it down.  
.  
“Go on ahead.” Chris said nodding at the guard at the back door that everything was fine. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She looked at her glass, and back at him. “One for the road?” she asked sweetly. “Fill her up.” He made her another drink filling it almost to the brim, which she promptly downed, shook off the bitter taste, and got up from the stool. She threw a handful of warm, crumpled bills on the counter, and told him to keep the rest. She stood up straight, and walked to the back the door. The man protecting it a gave her a once over, and shook his head. She laughed, but reminded herself what she was here for._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She was here for the vile creatures outside, and she wasn’t going to forget him. He opened the door, stepped aside, and she made her way to the back of the building where a few cheap, dim yellow lights showed several men out in the middle of a field standing in a haphazard circle cheering like assholes. Fog from their breath filled the brisk air around them. As she walked toward the group her body trembled in excitement as she pulled her hair down, and readjusted it into a tight bun. She counted at least fifteen waiting to fight, two fighting, Randy, and three huge men standing close by, but not engaging in the fights. _twenty-one? Too easy. _She thought as she removed her necklace while she was still blanketed by shadows, and tucked it into her pocket. She still didn’t know why, she just knew that she needed it, and wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from her.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Randy looked up, and saw her coming, heard her was probably more likely. He went back to watching the fight. Diana caught a hint of a grin where the lights from the building just barely touched his face. _Yep, this was going to be fun. _She thought with a crooked grin of her own. A fight was in progress, and the crowd was losing their shit. Waves of aggression hit her as she got closer. She looked around trying to find Sam in the crowd of some very large men. A few were twice her size, and then some. When she didn’t see his face she realized Sam was the one fighting. She made her way through the sweaty, overeager group to watch, ignoring the glances she was getting. She was the only female out there, and she was very small compared to most of them, but she knew it was skill, and not the size of her opponent. Sam’s fight was almost over. He was fighting a human, and had to know it because she could tell he was holding back. His nose, and cheek were bleeding down his face, and he ignored it as he threw another solid punch.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Randy approached her interrupting her moment of intrigue. She really wanted to watch, but turned her full attention to Randy who didn’t look pleased to see her, but he couldn’t hide the interest, and sick desire to see exactly what she wanted other than to fight. Even if she couldn’t already feel it, his eyes gave him away. She stepped off to the side with him. He was an older man with scars on his face, and body. He was tall, and muscular with long silver hair tied into a long, neat ponytail. He wore black work boots, jeans, and a black button up that he’d left completely unbuttoned exposing his chest. He was covered in poorly done tattoos. Tribal art that meant nothing, pelikan ink skulls, and more that peeked out from his shirt, but she couldn’t make out what they were, nor did she care._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“What do you think you’re doing here?” He asked her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“I came to fight.” She answered standing firm, her face all business. Randy laughed. “You’re lucky you were even allowed to drink at the bar.” He said watching Sam, and his opponent nearing the end of their fight. Sam’s adversary was already swaying on his feet, one more good strike, and he’d be down for the count. Diana kept her attention on Randy, and the three mammoth-sized guys behind him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Sam was finishing up, and when the guy he was fighting looked over at Diana, who Sam wasn’t aware of yet, he punched him in the jaw, and the man dropped. Sam won by a knockout. He was announced the winner, and he joined the crowd of barefoot men with their shirts off. His face was bloodied, and bruised. Blood from his nose, cheek, and a cut above his eye were running down his face, and neck. He looked pissed, and amped up, bouncing on his feet like a boxer, and grinning darkly. She could tell he wasn’t finished. One look at him, and she couldn’t help it, she was furious all over again. A broken nose, several cuts, several bruises, and he was still smiling. Not that she blamed him, it was fun. Then, out of nowhere she felt a sudden burst of pride. She was pissed, but still, she couldn’t help but want to see the younger Winchester in action. She hadn’t see him fight since they were kids, and with all of the stories she’d heard about him she was sure to not be disappointed. Dean was a challenge she hadn’t experienced yet. He still had the same fighting style, but he had a quite a bit of an advantage now. She was dying to test Sam. Gods forgive her, she just couldn’t stop the blackness that swirled deep within._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________She took a calming breath, turned to Randy, and said, “You gonna let me fight, or not?” pulling a thick wad of cash from her back pocket._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Not after what happened last time, I’m not.” He said turning back to the crowd intending to blow her off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“You afraid a girl might hurt one of these guys too badly?” She said loud enough for the crowd to hear her. Sam looked up at the sound of her voice as he was wiping blood from his face with his bare hands, and wiping them on his jeans. She shot him a wink, and returned her attention to Randy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“We don’t need your kind of attention here.” He growled at her under his breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“He deserved what he got. I’m not sorry he ended up at the hospital. Him exposing you had nothing to do with me. That’s your problem. What do you care anyway?” She said with a little too much cockiness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Randy shot her a look that said he’d heard enough. “You want to watch your tone.” She scoffed at that, and waited for him to agree like she knew he would. She waved the cash in his face, and Randy eyed the money in her hand his greed taking over. “I’ll let you fight, but don’t blame me if you get hurt again. I see a single blade after you’ve stripped, I’m taking your money, and that blade will be used on you.” Diana kept a straight face. _You can try. _Laughed silently in her head.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I’ll have zero weapons. Don’t need ‘em.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“Right.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________She held up her hand. “I solemnly swear not to gouge anyone’s eyes out, or cut anyone, scout’s honor.” She said with a sassy wink._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Randy study her for a moment looking her up, and down. He gave her a malicious smile. “Fucking smartass. OK, I’ll let you fight. In fact I have just the guy. Buy-in is a grand. Once you hand over your money, it’s mine, there’s no backing out. If you refuse to fight you’ll either be forced to, or have your ass handed to you anyway, you won’t like the latter as I'm sure you remember. You can fight once, collect his buy in, or put up three grand which goes in the pot. Again, once you hand over your money it’s gone, but your three grand buys the entire night, and a chance to win the entire pot except what goes to me, of course. Oh, and try not to kill the other guy if you can help it. Other than that there are no rules. I’d say good luck, but I don’t give a shit. Go put your shit with the rest in the pile” he said pointing at a dark pile on the ground where the few large men she’d seen standing aside guarded it. She knew he didn’t care who lived or died, but he had hunters in his group now, and she could feel eagerness coming from him, she didn’t know why, or care at the moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________She already knew the rules. She rolled her eyes, and threw the thick roll of bills at him who caught it easily. “I’m here all night.” She said as she turned and walked over to the pile, and the men standing watch. As Randy counted it he waved one of his huge, fully clothed lackeys over. “Frisk her, take any weapons you find. Make sure you check her ankles even if she strips any weapons off of them.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________As the enormous demon approached her, she stared at him intensely. He was a mountain of a man, at least six foot four maybe two hundred fifty pounds, probably more, with trunks for arms, and he too was adorned with shitty tattoos. _How’d they choose their meat suits, the prison yard? _  
He looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger on crack. He was standing almost right up against her, she could smell the stench on his breath, and the sulfur flooding from his pores. She took a few steps back not allowing him invade her space. The entire area reeked of sulfur. _Well, hello Lurch. _She already knew who, and what he was. As he reached out to pat her down she calmly, but coldly told him, “Touch me, Tiny, and I promise you’ll regret it.” She walked over, and checked out the pile of weapons, and clothes that was off to the side of the crowd, but far enough away from the area they were fighting in. _Well, at least I wasn’t the only one who came prepared. _She thought looking over the impressive collection of weapons. She glanced over at the two other large men guarding the pile. _Should have killed the lot of you when I had the chance. _She thought wanting to shake her head. They’d beaten her badly, and left her for dead after her last encounter with them. She’d made too many mistakes that night allowing herself to be stabbed was the biggest, but she’d learned a valuable lesson. Pride might be her downfall someday. Tonight things were a lot different. She felt stronger, powerful. Still, she’d have to wait for her moment._________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________She pulled off Dean’s old Carhart, and carefully sat it on the side of the pile. She removed her belt, pulled the knife from the sheath, and threw it into the ground with the handle sticking up on the edge of the pile. Easy to grab in a pinch. Unstrapping the holster from her ankle, she tossed it with the gun still snug in place next to her knife. She pulled off her button up, and threw it on top of Dean’s jacket. “The cold never bothered me anyway.” She mumbled to herself. She really didn’t need the jacket she’d worn it because she just liked that it belonged to Dean, and she was so used to playing the part of “normal” that she didn’t even think about it. She turned towards Randy’s lackey. He was staring at her in a lecherous manner. He licked his lips, and said, ”This is a skins fight, no shoes, no shirts.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“I know how it works, dickbag. Look at me like that again, and I’ll ask to fight you.” She said as she removed her boots leaving the Schrade clipped to left. She pulled her socks off, and tucked them into her boots. She pulled her tank top over her head in threw it in the pile with the rest of of her belongings. The cold Kansas air stung her skin momentarily before she began to warm again Wearing only jeans, and her plain black sports bra she stretched, not caring that every eye was on her. She was lean with rock solid muscles, and an eight-pack to kill for. She might be small, but she was very strong. Stronger than any of them could imagine, and power to back it up if needed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________Tiny was still ogling her with starving, hickory colored eyes. “With pleasure.” He said shamelessly looking her over. “The only person getting any pleasure from that fight will be me, that’s a promise.” She sneered. He laughed at that, and pointed at her waist. “Pocket knife, too.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________She pulled the Emerson from her pocket, and added it to her assortment of weapons on the ground. He walked up to her, and started to reach out to pat her down again. Before he could touch her she grabbed his right wrist twisting it to the right, palm up, as hard as she could without breaking it. He tried to swing with his left, but she dodged it, and kick him hard in the side of the knee. He fell to knees with a loud moan. “Told you not to touch me. Not so tough now, are you!” She growled in his face. “Sure you still wanna fight me?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“Bitch, I will fuck you up!” He yelled. The excitement drew a few laughs from the crowd._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________She laughed in Tiny’s face. He may have been strong, but she slowly learning she was just as strong as any normal demon. She contemplated breaking his wrist knowing it wouldn’t really hurt him anyway when Randy yelled, “That’s enough! I warned you once, I won’t do it again, and this time you won’t be leaving.” _Yeah, says you. _She thought as she rolled her eyes. Randy waved off the men that were walking toward her, she let Tiny go, and took a few steps back. When he got to his feet he walked up to Diana, towering over her. “I can’t wait to fight you, whore.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out.” She said narrowing her eyes that darkened even more in the shadows. She’d just pissed off all of Randy’s henchmen who were eyeing her. Randy was looking at her with full interest now, not understanding how she dropped a demon three times her size with one move._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Tiny started walking menacingly toward her, and the blood in her veins rushed like violent rapids. “We can go right now if you’re ready!” She taunted Tiny throwing up her hands. Randy grabbed her by the arm effortlessly dragging her away from Tiny, and shoved her into the crowd of testosterone, and adrenaline fueled men. She looked at his face when he let her go, and in that moment his face blurred, and changed into something she’d only been able to see years before. She shouldn’t be able to see it all now. His demon face was horrific, but she didn’t flinch, or let on that she’d seen it. She carefully looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. No one had. Of course they hadn’t, more than half of them were demons themselves. Including the patrons in the bar. _Come on, Diana, get your shit together! _She shouted in her mind.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________She wasn’t sure if she’d actually seen it, or if her mind was playing tricks on her. Her head was full of memories, and visions that didn’t belong to her. She knew there were demons here because she had fought here before trying to clean house, and because she’d seen it in Cas’ memories. She shouldn’t be seeing it in the present. That, and the smell of sulfur was almost overpowering standing so close together with them. Her entire body was on high alert. She trembled slightly, balling her hands into fists trying to keep calm. Anyone paying attention would just assume she was cold, but she really wanted to just go to work doing what she did best, and what she did best was kill evil assholes, and kill them brutally._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________The fact that demons were running the fights was the only reason she was here. If it had just been regular underground fighting she wouldn’t have worried about Sam so much. She knew he could handle himself and then some, but nothing about this was just typical fighting. Either way Sam had no business being here. She knew it, and she knew Sam, and Cas knew it. Not that she wasn’t already having a good time, but they had a lot of work to do, and to her this was a huge waste of time, and only hurting Sam._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________________________________________Randy called a two more to come forward, and fight. She watched for a moment, and moved closer to Sam.  
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sam asked furiously under his breath. He smelled strongly of whiskey.  
“Same thing you’re doing,” She said whispered never taking her eyes off the fight.  
“You need to leave, now!” Sam said glancing at her, and back to fight.  
“Don’t start babying me now, Sammy.” She whispered rolling her eyes.  
“Di- Addison, just go!”  
“What, you think I can’t fight?” She whispered careful never to mention she was knew she was surrounded by demons. She could feel the excitement, and murderous pleasure coming from all angles. She didn’t ignore it, but she was good at playing dumb. She knew Randy, and his guys knew about hunters, and was annoyed at Sam’s ignorance. Sam ignored her last remark, and they both watched as the two men in the center pummeled each other. She watched one of the men snap the other’s arm in an armbar. It was a good move, and she cheered with the rest of the crowd. Sam grumbled something she couldn’t make out over the cheers, and shouting that rang through her ears. Diana moved away from Sam, and just stood quietly as more men were paired off to fight. She studied their moves just as she knew Sam was doing. She was getting impatient. The excitement from those around her had her blood pumping, and adrenaline soaring. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________When the third fight since her arrival had ended Randy finally stepped forward, and pointed at Sam, and Addison. “You two, you’re up.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Sam crossed his arms, and calmly said, “Pass.”  
Randy laughed menacingly, “You know it doesn’t work that way, step up.” So this is what he wanted. Good. She’d been itching for it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Diana laughed. “What, you afraid of me?” She said smiling playfully at Sam. The crowd laughed at that. The two of them stepped into the middle of the crowd. Diana walked up toe to toe with Sam. Barefoot she only came up to Sam’s chest. She looked up at him with a coldness in her eyes, and said, “Hold back, and I’ll beat the fuck out of you.” She said as her icy breath curled out of her mouth, and up into his face. She was dead serious._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Sam looked at her in surprise. Beat the fuck out of him? That confused, and concerned him. That look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know for now. He thought they’d trade a few licks, and then call it good enough. He knew she was pissed about him being here, but this was something else. She’d been holding something back, but didn’t understand her iciness. The anger, and animosity was something he’d gotten used to over the last several weeks. He was used to hunters who’d shut down. Fighting, and killing evil creatures was pretty much all they lived for, and Diana was no exception. He’d been ignoring it, giving her bitterness a pass. He’d also been a little preoccupied himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Diana ignore the look he gave her, and tilted her head side to side, popping her neck. She laced her fingers together stretching her arms out in front of her, cracking her knuckles simultaneously. That look she was giving him was her shutting out the sounds around her, and only focusing on him. The eagerness, adrenaline, and rage from the crowd fueled her even further. She couldn’t afford to take it easy on him, but she wasn’t planning on seriously hurting him either._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Sam was shivering a little as he bounced back, and forth on the balls of his bare feet trying to keeping his cardio up to keep him warm. He was freezing, but he’d been colder, and he was on alert himself. He couldn’t believe that she was standing there barely moving, like the freezing temperatures had no effect on her. She didn’t even shiver. She planted her bare feet into the icy grass, stared Sam right in his eyes that looked almost light brown in what little light they had from the far off building, and waited for the signal. Sam was a big guy, and had at least eight inches, or more on her, physical strength and a very long reach. They hadn’t seen each other fight in years, and Sam was in for a surprise. They’d come a long way from sparring, and training as kids._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________When Randy said “Have at it.” the crowd began yelling, and cussing. They couldn’t wait to see what this “little girl” could do after she’d dropped an almost 300 pound man by twisting his wrist. They wanted blood, and she was more than willing to give it to them. Diana’s heart was racing, her hands were warm, and her body shuddered. She was more than ready. She reminded herself once again that she didn’t really want to hurt Sam, just prove a point, clean up his mess, and get the fuck out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Sam sighed, and got into a fighting stance. Diana just stood there watching him, and the doubt on his face. Because he was fighting Diana he wasn’t focused, or ready for her. She swiftly dropped to the ground, ground-sweeping him knocking his legs out from under him. He landed hard on his back the air rushing from his lungs. She hopped to her feet quickly, and gave him a second to catch his breath while staying far enough back he couldn’t reach her. If he'd been anyone else she'd have ended the fight then, and there. He sat up on his knees catching his breath. Now he was on her level, not that she couldn’t hit him while he was standing, but now he was wide open. She hit him hard in his freshly bruised face reopening the cut he already had on cheek. His head snapped to the side, and he shook it off still half kneeling, fresh, warm blood pouring down the side of his face matting his hair. He turned to looked at her in surprise. She hit a lot harder than he'd expected, and she was fast. She hit him again, splitting his lip. She stepped back, and yelled, “Get up!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Sam got to his feet, and wiped the blood off his face with his arm. He was pissed, and ready to fight, but the look of reluctance on his face was still showing. Diana didn’t care, she wanted to fight Sam. She’d been waiting to fight a Winchester for years. Dean had been a completely different animal, and wasn’t exactly the fight she’d been looking for._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________She had reluctance of her own, only she didn’t feel bad about it. If Sam didn’t fight her he’d really get his ass kicked, and it wouldn’t be by her. She was going to regret this later. One more thing to add to her list, but she needed to piss Sam off, or this was going to be a one sided fight.  
Diana leaned in close to Sam knowing he wasn’t going to hit her, yet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“What, you can’t fight without big bro by your side? You never could do anything without him.” She shoved him with everything she had. Even with his feet planted he still had to step back to keep from losing his balance.“You never really did tell me what happened with him. Why is that, was it your fault?” She said staring him in the eyes giving him a chilling look. She watched as Sam’s entire body language changed. He was in a protective stance with his jaw clenched._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“You’re out here fighting assholes when you should be focused on you brother! You’re such a coward.” She taunted quietly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He still wasn’t taking the bait. She reached back even further to find something, anything that would set him off, and make him fight her. “What about that girl? What was her name, Jess? Yeah, I know about her. You can’t protect anyone, can you?” She said with fake disgust._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________That did it, and he swung hard his fist connecting with her cheek with a loud smack. She was on the ground before she knew what happened. She looked up, and saw Sam standing over her. He leaned over to hit her again, but before he could she had her legs hooked tight around his waist. She grabbed him by the ankles, thrust her hips up, and pulled hard. He fell back. She leaned forward grabbing him by the back of the neck pulling herself on top of him with a knee in his stomach. She was trying to use all of her weight to hold him there. She was too close. He hit her again, and she tasted copper. Anger took over, and she wasn’t thinking clearly. She grabbed Sam by the throat, Big mistake. He grabbed her arm in a lock with both hands, sliding his foot behind her ankle he trust his hips up, and flipped her over, pulling himself on top of her, knees squeezing her hips. Her arm still in his firm grasp, his elbow shot up smashing her nose. She lay there dazed, eyes watering, nose gushing blood. She smiled through the pain at Sam. _Nice move, Sammy! _Sam’s face was full of rage as he pulled his fist back to hit her again. She thrust a palm up feeling the crunch of his already broken nose, then swung with a left, and hit him in jaw. He swung again, and she blocked it. She grabbed his wrist, and he grabbed her arm, holding it with one hand, and peeling her fingers back with the other until she let go. Her hands free she leaned forward, and hit him in the mouth. He spit, and punched her back so hard her head bounced on the the unforgiving ground. She groaned in pain, head swimming. She was dazed, but could keep this up all night. She palm struck him in the sternum hard, and he almost fell over on top of her. She shoved him off, and crawled to her feet. Sam was furious as he stood up holding his chest with one hand, blocking with the other trying to breathe. _Yep, he’s got it, but he’s still holding back. _  
She watched him waiting for an opening, and tried to hit him with an uppercut that he dodged. She let out an angry growl, and went for him again. Sam gave her a love-tap to the jaw, and kicked her in the knee just hard enough for her to drop to the frigid ground. She knelt there on the ground looking up at Sam. _Come on, Sam, I want your best. _Sam stood over her, and she grabbed him when he leaned over to hit her again, kicking his left ankle hard. He fell on top of her knocking her on her back, and he sat up quickly thighs on both sides of her hips. She blocked his swing grabbing his arm locking it at the elbow. He tried to get out out of it, but the more he struggled the more pain it caused. If she pushed any harder it’d break. He smacked her again with his free hand. She applied more pressure to her lock, and he let out a loud painful groan, and he hit her again. She could barely hear the screaming crowd over the ringing in her ears as her head hit the ground again. She spit blood, and yelled, “Is that the best you got, pussy?” She was angry, but she was still in control for the moment. She released his arm before she broke it, and he hit her hard with his left, then right. Sam looked at her with hate in eyes, as blood and sweat dripped from his long hair, and onto her face mingling with her own blood, and sweat. He flung his hair back out of his face flinging blood, and sweat all over her. She leaned up while he was briefly distracted, and punched him in his bloody cheek, and heard the bone crack. Not one of the perks of exceptional hearing. Sam, enraged, hit her again, breaking her nose this time. She looked at him in surprise. She really didn’t think Sam had it in him to take it this far. She'd pushed him to his limit, and he was also drunk. Every strike was a release of pent up rage. She knew that feeling all too well. Yet, even with the anger, and hate in his eyes, just beneath it was hurt, too, and she pitied him then._______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________When he saw the look on her face he stopped midswing. Breathing hard he looked at her, at what he’d done. After trying so hard to keep her alive he’d allowed her to get to him, made him ready to pummel her, and he did. She seemed so small then, face bruising, and bleeding. He sat straddling her small hips breathing hard, his breath coming out in steady white puffs. His shoulders rising up, and down as his chest heaved with hefty breaths trying to control his anger as blood, and sweat ran down his perfectly sculpted body. Even Diana had to admit it was probably one of the sexier things she’d ever seen. She didn’t even mind that he’d landed more than a few blows. She’d asked for it after all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“Hit that bitch!” someone yelled. Diana snickered. That brought Sam back to the reality of what was happening, and as pissed as he was, he no longer wanted to fight her, but would love to get his hands on the bastard who’d yelled at him to hit her again. His protective nature took hold, consequences be damned. He was pissed she’d coaxed him into a fight like this, he wasn’t here for her, and was distracted again. With guilt in his eyes he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so….”  
Diana took her opening, and grabbed Sam by the shoulders pulling him close. Before he had time to react her head bashed the bridge of his nose causing his vision to go white, and he swayed. Blood was dripping from his face onto the parts of her skin that were bare. As he tried to get up she raised her hips throwing him off balance, and rolled using her thighs to bring him with her. Once on top she punched him in the face again. When she realized he wasn’t fighting back she cocked her head to the side, and smiled. “Come on, Sam, don’t hold out on me now.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“I’ll take the ass beating either way, but I’m done!” he said through clenched teeth. He was still furious, but she could tell he really meant it. She gave him another confused look. It had been a long since someone didn’t want to fight her after she’d pushed them. She’d only known two people in her life that had been willing to take a beating for her. Even though she’d been holding back, she knew that the beating he’d receive for not finishing a fight would be far worse than the one she could give at this moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________She looked at the hungry crowd of men, and demons, then back at Sam. “Sorry, Sammy, but if anyone’s gonna take you out of the fight it’s going to be me.” She whispered harshly, and before he could even move she clipped him on the chin with a perfect punch. He was out cold._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Keeping up her act, though she knew the demons knew who they were by then, she could hear their whispers. She climbed to her feet standing over Sam, not bothering to check on him. Of course they knew who Sam was. They were toying with him. Maybe Sam knew it, maybe he didn’t. It didn’t really matter now. They didn’t know exactly who she was, but they knew she was a hunter. It was probably the only reason Randy had let her fight at all. What could be better than pitting two hunters against each other? Randy announced her the winner, which only made more of the men want to fight her. Two men dragged Sam to the side, and didn’t even bother to make sure he was OK. From the snoring sound he was making Diana knew he was just unconscious, and would be fine. She could feel Randy’s disappointment. He’d been hoping one of them would kill the other, no doubt so he could finish off the one left standing, and hopefully be done with hunters invading his business for while._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________Randy let her keep up her act, and she won the next four fights with ease. When it was time for the last fight of the night, the fight for the pot, She noticed Sam had come around, and was standing off to the side rubbing his jaw watching her. He was standing near the pile of weapons, and the two demons guarding it. Their mistake._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________She returned to the crowd, and waited her next turn. Sam had just thought she’d been pissed when they were fighting. She mercilessly took down her other opponents, snapping bones, and beating on them with pure, unrelenting pleasure. Now it was time for the last fight of the night, She was up, and more than ready._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________She walked back into the middle of the circle, and stared down the man she was to fight. He was big, maybe six foot, almost 200 pounds, and all muscle. She wasn’t worried about him until he stepped a little closer, and she saw he had a milky left eye, and large scar across the left side of his face. “Well aren't you pretty.” Diana sneered, rolling her shoulders back, and bouncing a little on her feet. Hell, she wasn’t even really all that tired yet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________________“No thanks to you, bitch.” He growled at her. She laughed. It was only when is face changed like Randy’s had that she couldn’t hide the surprised look on her face. _So, they got to you, too. How unfortunate. _She thought with slight satisfaction as she took a few steps back, and tried to look threatening, but he’d caught the look on her face. “You can see us, can’t you?” He said with a grin as his eyes went black. She continued to glare at him not saying a word. “Good. We already knew you, and the Winchester over there were hunters. Had plans to kill him tonight, but two for the price of one is even better.” _Good thing you brought your buddies, you’re going to need it. _She thought darkly._____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________When she glanced over at Sam he sucker punched her in the face before Randy ever gave a signal, and she fell to the ground letting out a groan. As she tried to blink away the white spots that filled her vision he kicked her in the ribs, and she let out a wheeze. She had no air to to scream, or cry out. She rolled onto her back holding her ribs. The demon laughed as he kicked her in her already bleeding, and bruised face. He was strong, but he was barefoot. If he’d been wearing shoes he may have knocked her out, but she doubted it, she wasn’t that lucky. Her chest was burning, and the left side of her face throbbed, but she watched him, letting him get in close, her pain already ceasing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________He leaned down to strike her in the face, and she locked her legs around his waist. He leaned in closer, and grabbed her by the back of the head, and she grabbed his elbows, using her hips, and all of her weight she flipped him over her head, and pulled herself on top of him. She reached back, and hit him in the face multiple times as hard as she could. He laughed, and equally hit her in the face a few times with both hands. She felt her cheek pop, and thick warm liquid ran down the side of her face blending with drying blood. Though her face, and body throbbed, and ached she spit blood in his face giving him a bloodstained smile. “Fuck you, demon! Do your worst, bitch!” She screamed, and hit him again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________He was incredibly strong, but she thought she could still take him if she could get him off of her. She reached back to strike him again, but she wasn’t fast enough. He wasn’t like the other demons, just playing along until it was time to torture, and kill the hunters. He was out for blood, and she knew Randy had set this up when he heard she was here. He reached up, and grabbed her by the throat, and squeezed hard, cutting off her oxygen. She was furious, kicking her legs, and clawing wildly at his arms, but couldn’t breathe. Her face was turning shades of red, and purple. He could snap her neck easily. When she thought she was close to passing out an instinct deep inside her kicked in, she’d had more than enough. Her eyes turned a bright violet, glowing fiercely, surprising the demon who immediately let her go. “Dia...” He started to say fear covering his face.She reached a hand out seemingly at nothing, and her Ka Bar flew passed Sam, and into her hand. Still unable to breathe she thrust the knife into his belly, and twisted it. He screamed, and let her go. He pulled the knife out, and tossed it aside. “You think that will kill me? You just killed the suit, though.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“You think I care.” She said with a wicked, blank expression. He went after her again and, with a wave of her hand, he flew into the shocked, and equally terrified crowd knocking a few men to the ground with him. He hastily got to his feet, but didn’t make a move. Diana was on her hands, and knees shaking with rage. She lifted her head, blood pouring down her face, and neck running into her bra, murder in her electric eyes. Her hair had come undone long before this fight had ended, and fell into her face, a few strands sticking to the blood, and sweat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“Oh, you’re done now?” She yelled sitting back on her heels looking only at her current opponent. She wasn’t finished with him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________Sam stared at her unsure of what to make of what was happening._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________She slowly got to her feet. “You got the hunter part right, but I’m just a little bit more than that.” She said her eyes glowing lilac as she stared at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“We know who you are, let us go, and you’ll never see us again.” The demon said with an almost pleading look. “Either of you.” He said looking toward Sam who just glared back at him. None of them had known who she was exactly, a spell tattooed in white on her side that blended perfectly with her skin saw to that. To them she was just another hunter, until they saw her eyes. She had a reputation in hell. No demon had purple eyes, or power like her, and she was feared by most demons who knew who she was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________The demons guarding the pile of weapons were distracted by Diana, and Sam had seen enough. He quickly grabbed his boot off the ground, and pulled the demon blade from it. Randy’s right hand man saw him, and went straight for him. Sam blocked his swing, and stabbed him in the chest. Bright red light crackled under his skin as Sam left him on the ground, and went for the next. She had really wanted to be the one to end him, but was satisfied with Sam’s work. Diana was only focused on the group now, she knew Sam could take care of himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“Come on, guys, show me those pretty eyes.” she said playfully._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________Several pairs of eyes turned black among confused human men who thought they were actually participating in some underground fighting. She didn’t have time to worry about scared, stupid humans. Sam had taken out Randy’s back up easily, and came up behind her. “Diana, what the hell?” He whispered in her ear.  
“I got it, Sam.” She said as she waved her arm again, and the human men went flying back away from from the crowd. “Get out of here!” She yelled at them. They got the their feet, and ran barefoot, shirtless, and empty handed without looking back, their breath fogging in the cold as they ran for their lives._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________The demons closed in around them. “Diana?” Sam asked again a little more concern in his voice. She ignored him, and continued to stare. Her adrenaline soared, and her heart rate spiked. She stood completely still, without even a slight tremor as she let power she hadn't felt in a long time flow through her. She could feel it in her veins, and shivered with pleasure. Sam could feel the electricity in the air, and the heat coming off of her, and took a several steps away from her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“Congelo.” She she said calmly, thrusting her hands out in front of her. Ten demons froze, unable to move. She could see the confusion, and panic in their darting eyes. She smiled, and for a moment wondered what it would be like to see them fight, and slaughter each other. Sam took a few more steps back when he noticed that frozen ground under Diana’s bare feet began to thaw. Her skin was on fire, and her sticky auburn hair blew back in the windless night. Sam was smart to be afraid. She was prepared to do something awful. She looked terrifying covered in blood, eyes glowing, and determined stare that only meant one thing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________Sam whispered something she barely heard as she focused on her targets. She was almost in a trance. Just before she could decide her next move she heard a high pitch ringing. Sam covered his ears in distress. Diana didn’t even blink. She recognized the sound, and it didn’t disturb her one bit. Castiel appeared suddenly, eyes glowing a brilliant blue, he sent out a rush of scorching power, smiting the demons before she got her chance at seeing what she really do._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________Diana turned to Castiel eyes still aglow. “Diana, calm down. It’s me.” He said dropping his angel blade. Diana scoffed. Did he think she wouldn’t fight him unarmed?  
“Diana, easy.” Sam said still holding the demon blade in a firm grasp. She didn’t want to calm down, but she didn’t want to hurt Sam. She reluctantly closed her eyes, and lowered her head. She took a few calming breaths, and when her heart rate slowed, and her body cooled she opened her eyes, and looked heatedly at Castiel. “I had it, and even if I didn’t where the hell have you been?” Her deep brown eyes almost black in the shadows were full of ferocity. She’d deal with him later._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________He tried to say something else, but she didn’t let him speak before she turned away from him, and walked over to the pile of clothes, and weapons. Sam, and Cas watched her carefully. She grabbed a gun from the pile checking it to make sure it was still loaded, and pointed it past Sam.  
“Whoa!” He yelled throwing up his hands, dropping the knife thinking she was pointing it at him. She fired a single shot, and Randy, who had been trying to sneak off dropped to the ground. She walked up to Sam who had lowered his hands, and stooped to pick up his knife. He didn’t try to stop her, or get in her way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________She walked past him, and Castiel without a another look, headed toward Randy. He was already standing, and laughing when she reached him.  
“That won’t kill me, bitch.” She grinned, “I know, but this will” She said as she grabbed by the shirt pulling him close to her. She pressed the demon blade against his throat dragging hard, and fast left to right, and watched as he crumpled, choked, and died in a blaze of red. She collected the wad of cash he’d been walking off with, and crammed it into her pockets. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________She walked back over to the pile of weapons, grabbed her things, and over her shoulder said to Sam with as much calm as she could muster, “You should go home, and look for a more useful way to save your fucking brother.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________As she was putting her clothes, and boots back on Sam asked, “What the fuck was that?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“Magic.” She said with a sarcastic laugh as she strapped her gun back to her ankle, and covered it with the leg of her jeans.  
She looked through the pile, and picked up a full sized HK .45. “Nice.” She said to herself as she checked it, and tucked it into the back of her jeans, and pulled her plaid shirt down covering the grips. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“That’s the only thing I’m going to get out of you after whatever that was?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________“Go home, Sam, and if you’re planning anything else stupid I suggest you shut it down, now.” She answered throwing Dean’s jacket at him, and walking off into the the night. The bar behind her exploded, and then she disappeared completely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________Sam jumped, and ducked slightly. He looked at Castiel confused, angry, and a little afraid. “Did she just...?”  
“Blow up a bar, and teleport? Yes. I'll explain the rest later.” Cas said as he put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, and took them back to the bunker. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________Diana didn’t go immediately back to the bunker she was too angry with Sam, and his angel to trust herself not go into a rage. She went to a bar several miles away instead. She got a few odd glances as she walked up to the bar. That’s when she remembered she looked like she’d been beaten to hell. She cleaned up in the bathroom washing the blood from her hands, and wiping blood from her face. She ran her fingers through her hair trying to straighten it up as much as possible, and pulled it back up. The bruises were already fading, though the cuts would take a little more time. She buttoned her flannel all the way up to hide the blood, and the rest of her bruises. No one even questioned her when she came out. She spent the rest of the night drinking on a stool alone until the bartender kicked her out at closing. She placed a large sum of cash on the counter, and left._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________She walked up the road, not wanting to go back to the bunker, and not really having anywhere to go. She was’t drunk, but she buzzed. She was still riding the high from the night she’d so desperately wanted, and needed. Now she needed to think. The rush of power she’d experienced had been amazing. At that moment she had felt like she could do anything. She hadn’t let herself go like that in years. She honestly didn’t think that she still could. She was thankful, and resentful of Cas for stepping in before she could really let go. That’s when she realized Sam had called for Cas not just for help, but because he was scared of her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________________She walked over a mile before it occurred to her to go back to the house in Texas. Maybe she’d remember what exactly happened, and possibly find her things. She really wanted that leather jacket back. She briefly closed her eyes, and when she opened them she was standing in front of the house that had been haunting her dreams lately, though she’d never admit it. She shivered as she crossed the driveway, and walked up the front steps. She pulled her new HK from the back of her jeans, sighed, and then opened the door with one hand, and pointed the gun straight in front of her with the other. She walked in, and stood in the entryway._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued.... 
> 
> Part 2 of Dirty work coming soon


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